you places of power in that country in the good times to come.'
'You insinuate that this is a world movement. Is that true?'
'Of course it is. Rather like one of those hurricanes, you
know, that have names. Flora or Little Annie. They come
up out of the south or the north or the east or the west, but
they come up from nowhere and destroy everything. That's
what everyone wants. In Europe and Asia and America.
Perhaps Africa, though there won't be so much enthusiasm
there. They're fairly new to power and graft and things.
Oh yes, it's a world movement all right. Run by youth and
all the intense vitality of youth. They haven't got knowledge
and they haven't got experience, but they've got vision and
vitality, and'they're backed by money. Rivers and rivers of
money pouring in. There's been too much materialism, so
we've asked for something else, and we've got it. But as its
based on hate, it can't get anywhere. It can't move offthe
ground. Don't you remember in 1919 everyone going about
with a rapt face saying Communism was the answer
everything. That Marxist doctrine would produce "^ heaven brought down to a new earth. So many noblf 112
fliwing about. But then, you see, whom have you got to work i1!' r.e ideas with? After all, only the same human beings
,'u've always had. You can create a third world now, or so
everwne thinks, but the third world will have the same
neopie in i1 as me nrst world or the second world or whatever
names you like to call things. And when you have
the same human beings running things, they'll run them the
same way. You've only got to look at history.'
'Does anybody care to look at history nowadays?'
'No. They'd much rather look forward to an unforeseeable
future. Science was once going to be the answer to
everything. Freudian beliefs and unrepressed sex would be the
next answer to human misery. There'd be no more people
with mental troubles. If anyone had said that mental homes
would be even fuller as the result of shutting out repressions
nobody would have believed him.'
Stafford Nye interrupted her:
'I want to know something,' said Sir Stafford Nye.
What is it?'
Where are we going next?'
South America. Possibly Pakistan or India on the way.
And we must certainly go to the USA. There's a lot going
on there that's very interesting indeed. Especially in California--'
'Universities?' Sir Stafford sighed. 'One gets very tired of universities. They repeat themselves so much.'
They sat silent for some minutes. The light was failing,
but a mountain peak showed softly red.
Stafford Nye said in a nostalgic tone:
'If we had some more music now--this moment--do you
know what I'd order?'
'More Wagner? Or have you torn yourself free from Wagner?'
'No--you're quite right--more Wagner. I'd have Hans ^aehs sitting under his elder tree, saying of the world:
Wad, mad, all mad"--'
'Yes--that expresses it. It's lovely music, too. But we're not mad. We're sane.'
'Eminently sane,' said Stafford Nye. "That is going to be
vv'i^^' Therels one more ^^K I want to know.'
theF01'11'11'8 you won>t teu me- But I've 80t to know- Is that golng to be ^y fun to be got out of this mad business tha_ we're attempting?'
^t course there is. Why not?'
113
'Mad, mad, all mad--but we'll enjoy it all very mud
Will our lives be long, Mary Arm?'
'Probably not,' said Renata.
That's the spirit. I'm with you, my comrade, and m
guide. Shall we get a better world as a result of our efforts!
'I shouldn't think so, but it might be a kinder one. It'
full of beliefs without kindness at present.'
'Good enough,' said Stafford Nye. 'Onward 1'
114
Book 3
AT HOME AND ABROAD
In a room in Paris five men were sitting. It was a room
that had seen historic meetings before. Quite a number of
them. This meeting was in many ways a meeting of a different
kind yet it promised to be no less historic.
Monsieur Grosjean was presiding. He was a worried man
doing his best to slide over things with facility and a charm
of manner that had often helped him in the past. He did
not feel it was helping him so much today. Signer Vitelli
had arrived from Italy by air an hour before. His gestures
were feverish, his manner unbalanced.
'It is beyond anything,' he was saying, 'it is beyond anything
one could have imagined.'
'These students,' said Monsieur Grosjean, 'do we not all
suffer?'
'This is more than students. It is beyond students. What
can one compare this to? A swarm of bees. A disaster of
nature intensified. Intensified beyond anything one could
have imagined. They march. They have machine-guns. Somewhere
they have acquired planes. They propose to take over
the whole of North Italy. But it is madness, that! They are
children--nothing more. And yet they have bombs, explosives.
In the city of Milan alone they outnumber the police. What
can we do, I ask you? The military? The army too--it is in
revolt. They say they are with les jeunes. They say there is no
hope for the world except in anarchy. They talk of something Aey call the Third World, but this cannot just happen.'
Monsieur Grosjean sighed. 'It is very popular among
the young,' he said, 'the anarchy. A belief in anarchy. We
know that from the days of Algeria, from all the troubles from which our country and our colonial empire has suffered.
And what can we do? The military? In the end they back ^e students.'
The students, ah, the students,' said Monsieur Poissonier. I He was a member of the French government to whom
| fte word 'student' was anathema. If he had been asked he
j Would have admitted to a preference for Asian 'flu or even
F1" outbreak of bubonic plague. Either was preferable in
mind to the activities of students. A world with no stuts
in it! That was what Monsieur Poissonier sometimes
,�
dreamt about. They were good dreams, those. They did no;
occur often enough.
'As for magistrates,' said Monsieur Grosjean, 'what ha;
happened to our judicial authorities? The police--yes, the are loyal still, but the judiciary, they will not impose sen
tences, not on young men who are brought before them
young men who have destroyed property, government pro
perty, private property--every kind of property. And why
not, one would like to know? I have been making inquiries
lately. The Prefecture have suggested certain things to me.
An increase is needed, they say, in the standard of living
among judiciary authorities, especially in the provincial areas.'
'Come, come,' said Monsieur Poissonier, 'you must be
careful what you suggest.'
'Ma foi, why should I be careful? Things need bringicf
into the open. We have had frauds before, gigantic fraud. and there is money now circulating around. Money, anc
we do not know where it comes from, but the Prefectur-.
have said to me--and I believe it--that they begin to gs;
' I'll an idea of where it is going. Do we contemplate, can was contemplate a corrupt state subsidized from some outskisource?'
'In
Italy too,' said Signer Vitelli, 'in Italy, ah, I cou'd tell you things. Yes, I could tell you of what we suspec
But who, who is corrupting our world? A group of indu:
trialists, a group of tycoons? How could such a thing be s>.
This business has got to stop,' said Monsieur Grosjea' ,
'Action must be taken. Military action. Action from the Air
Force. These anarchists, these marauders, they come fro'?!
every class. It must be put down.'
'Control by tear gas has been fairly successful,' said Poiasonier
dubiously.
'Tear gas is not enough,' said Monsieur Grosjean. 'T ie
same result could be got by setting students to peel bund rs
of onions. Tears would flow from their eyes. It needs me e than that.'
Monsieur Poissonier said in a shocked voice:
'You are not suggesting the use of nuclear weapons?' I
'Nuclear weapons? Quel blague! What can we do w "'
nuclear weapons. What would become of the soil of Frar .;
of the air of France if we use nuclear weapons? We < "'
destroy Russia, we know that; We also-know that Ru;
can destroy us.'
'You're not suggesting that groups of marching and dem
strating students could destroy our authoritarian forces'? 118
%
"That is exactly what I am suggesting. I have had a
warning of such things. Of stock-piling of arms, and various
forms of chemical Warfare and of other things. I have had
reports from some of our eminent scientists. Secrets are
known. Stores--held in secret--weapons of warfare have
been stolen. What is to happen next, I ask you. What is to
happen next?'
The question was answered unexpectedly and with more
rapidity than Monsieur Grosjean could possibly have calculated.
The door opened and his principal secretary approached
his master, his face showing urgent concern. Monsieur
Grosjean looked at him with displeasure.
'Did I not say I wanted no interruptions?'
'Yes indeed. Monsieur Ie President, but this is somewhat
unusual--' He bent towards his master's ear. 'The Marshal
is here. He demands entrance.'
The Marshal? You mean--'
The secretary nodded his head vigorously several times
colleague in perplexity.
'He demands admission. He will not take refusal.'
The two other men in the room looked first at Grosjean
and then at the agitated Italian.
'Would it not be better,' said Monsieur Coin, the Minister
for Home Affairs, 'if--'
He paused at the 'if as the door was once more flung
open and a man strode in. A very well-known man. A man
whose word had been not only law, but above law in the
country of France for many past years. To see him at this
moment was an unwelcome surprise for those sitting there.
'Ah, I welcome you, dear colleagues,' said the Marshal.
'I come to help you. Our country is in danger. Action must
be taken, immediate action! I come to put myself at your
service. I take over all responsibility for acting in this crisis.
There may be danger. I know there is, but honour is above
danger. The salvation of France is above danger. They march this way now. A vast herd of students, of criminals
who have been released from jails, some of them who have ronimitted the crime of homicide. Men who have committed incendiarism. They shout names. They sing songs. They call
�n the names of their teachers, of their philosophers, of those
who have led them on this path of insurrection. Those who
will bring about the doom of France unless something is done. You sit here, you talk, you deplore things. More than that
oiust be done. I have sent for two regiments. I have alerted th& 119
air force, special coded wires have gone out to our neighbouring
ally, to my friends in Germany, for she is our ally now in
this crisis!
'Riot must be put down. Rebellion! Insurrection! The
danger to men, women and children, to property. I go forth
now to quell the insurrection, to speak to them as their father,
their leader. These students, these criminals even, they are my
children. They are the youth of France. I go to speak to
them of that. They shall listen to me, governments will be
revised, their studies can be resumed under their own auspices.
Their grants have been insufficient, their lives have been
deprived of beauty, of leadership. I come to promise all this.
I speak in my own name. I shall speak also ia your name,
the name of the Government, you have done your best, you
have acted as well as you know how. But it needs higher
leadership. It needs my leadership. I go now. I have lists of
further coded wires to be sent. Such nuclear deterrents as can
be used in unfrequented spots can be put into action in such
a modified form that though they may bring terror to the
mob, we ourselves shall know that there is no real danger
in them. I have thought out everything. My plan will go.
Come, my loyal friends, accompany me.'
'Marshal, we cannot allow--you cannot imperil yourself. We must . . .'
'I listen to nothing you say. I embrace my doom. Bay destiny.'
The Marshal strode to the door.
'My staff is outside. My chosen bodyguard. I go now to speak to these young rebels, this young flower of beauty
and terror, to tell them where their duty lies.'
He disappeared through the door with the grandeur of a leading actor playing his favourite part.
'Bon dieu, he means it!' said Monsieur Poissonier.
'He will risk his life,' said Signer Vitelli. 'Who knows? It is
brave, he is a brave man. It is gallant, yes, but what wil' happen to him? In the mood les jeunes are in now, they might kill him.'
A pleasurable sigh fell from Monsieur Poissonier's lips
It might be true, he thought. Yes, it might be true.
'It is possible,' he said. 'Yes, they might kill him.'
'One cannot wish that, of course,' said Monsieur Grosjesr
carefully.
Monsieur Grosjean did wish it. He hoped for it, thou?1 a natural pessimism led him to have the second thougL
that things seldom fell out in the way you wanted them 10. 120
Indeed, a much more awful prospect confronted him. It was
quite possible, it was within the tradiions of the Marshal's
past, that somehow or other he night induce a large
pack of exhilarated and bloodthirsty students to listen to
what he said, trust in his promises. End insist on restoring
him to the power that he had once held. It was the sort
of thing that had happened once or wice in the career of
the Marshal. His personal magnetism Wis such that politicians
had before now met their defeat when they least expected it.
'We must restrain him,' he cried.
Yes, yes,' said Signer Vitelli, 'he (annot be lost to the
world.'
'One fears,' said Monsieur Poissonitr. 'He has too many
friends in Germany, too many contacts, and you know
they move very quickly in milita
ry matters in Germany.
They might leap at the opportunity.'
'Ban dieu, bon dieu,' said Monsieur Grosjean, wiping his
brow. 'What shall we do? What can we do? What is that
noise? I hear rifles, do I not?'
'No, no,' said Monsieur Poissonier wnsolingly. 'It is the
canteen coffee trays you hear.'
"There is a quotation I could use,' said Monsieur Grosjean,
who was a great lover of the druna, 'if I could only
remember it. A quotation from Shakespeare. "Will nobody
rid me of this--"'
' "turbulent priest,"' said Monsieur >oissonier. 'From the
play, Becket.'
'A madman like the Marshal is worse than a priest. A
priest should at least be harmless, though indeed even His
Holiness the Pope received a delegation of students only
yesterday. He blessed them. He called them his children.'
'A Christian gesture, though,' said Monsieur Coin dubiously.
'One can go too far even with Christian gestures,' said
Monsieur Grosjean.
Chapter 14 CONFERENCE IN london
In the Cabinet Room at 10 Downing Street, Mr Cedric
Lazenby, the Prime Minister, sat at the head of the table
and looked at his assembled Cabinet without any noticeable
pleasure. The expression on his face was definitely
121
gloomy, which in a way afforded him a certain relief. Hs
was beginning to think that it was only in the privacy
of his Cabinet Meetings that he could relax his face into
an unhappy expression, and could abandon that look which
he presented usually to the world, of a wise and contented
optimism which had served him so well in the various
crises of political life.
He looked round at Gordon Chetwynd, who was frowning,
at Sir George Packham who was obviously worrying, thinking,
and wondering as usual, at the military imperturbability
of Colonel Munro, at Air Marshal Kenwood, a tightlipped
man who did not trouble to conceal his profound distrust
of politicians. There was also Admiral Blunt, a large formidable
man, who tapped his fingers on the table and bided
his time until his moment should come.
'It is not too good,' the Air Marshal was saying. 'One
has to admit it. Four of our planes hi-jacked within the
last week. Flew 'em to Milan. Turned the passengers out, and
flew them on somewhere else. Actually Africa. Had pilots
waiting there. Black men.'
'Black Power,' said Colonel Munro thoughtfully.
'Or Red Power?' suggested Lazenby. 'I feel, you know,
that all our difficulties might stem from Russian indoctrination.
If one could get into touch with the Russians--I really
think a personal visit at top level--'
'You stick where you are. Prime Minister,' said Admiral
Blunt. 'Don't you start arseing around with the Russkies
again. All they want at present is to keep out of all this
mess. They haven't had as much trouble there with their
students as most of us have. All they mind about is keeping
an eye on the Chinese to see what they'll be up to next.'
'I do think that personal influence--'
'You stay here and look after your own country,' said
Admiral Blunt. True to his name, and as was his wont, be
said it bluntly:
'Hadn't we better hear--have a proper report of what's
actually been happening?' Gordon Chetwynd looked '< 'wards
Colonel Munro.
'Want facts? Quite right. They're all pretty unp&iatable.
I presume you want, not particulars of what's beea ^P'
pening here so much, as the general world situation?'
'Quite so.'
"Well, in France the Marshal's in hospital still. Two
bullets in his arm. Hell's going on in political circles. Large
tracts of the country are held by what they call the Youth power troops.'
You mean they've got arms?' said Gordon Chetwynd in
a horrified voice.
'They've got a hell of a lot,' said the Colonel. 'I don't
know really where they've got them from. There are certain ideas as to that. A large consignment was sent from Sweden
to West Africa.'
'What's that got to do with it?' said Mr Lazenby. 'Who
cares? Let them have all the arms they want in West Africa.
They can go on shooting each other.'
'Well, there's something a little curious about it as far
as our Intelligence reports go. Here is a list of the armaments
that were sent to West Africa. The interesting thing
is they were sent there, but they were sent out again. They
were accepted, delivery was acknowledged, payment may