Astounding Science Fiction (British Edition), April 1944 — page 34: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

32 talk to you after you’ve had another sleep. Hear that, you guys, let him in when he comes. Now, beat it, all of you.” Pendrake was outside the stockade almost before he realized that he had been granted life. VI. PENDRAKE ate and slept, then ate and slept again. He awakened from his third sleep with the thought wedged tight in his mind that he dared not delay any longer his visit to Big Oaf. But he lay for a few minutes. It was not that his bedroom was particularly comfort- able. The sparkling light from the walls was too sustained for human eyes that needed darkness. The bed, while soft, was concave. So were the two long backless chairs. The door that led to the adjoining room was two feet high, like an igloo entrance. There was a scraping sound, a head poked through the doorway, and a stocky man crawled through and stood up. It took a moment for Pendrake to recognize Chris Devlin, the fellow who had objected to his being killed. Devlin said: “I’m being watched. So my coming here puts you under suspicion.” “Good!” said Pendrake. “Eh!” The man stared at him; and Pen- drake returned his gaze coolly. Devlin went on slowly: “You’ve been thinking things over, I see!” “Plenty,” said Pendrake. Devlin seated himself in one of the con- cave chairs. “‘Say-y-y,” he said, “you’re a inan after my own heart. I’d like to ask you a question: The way you handled Troger —was that an accident?” “I could do that,” said Pendrake flatly, “to Big Oaf.” He saw that Devlin was impressed and smiled wryly at the effectiveness of the psychology he had used—the psychology of deliberate positivity. “It’s too bad,” said Devlin, “that a man with your spirit has only got one arm.” Pendrake winced. The problem of his one arm was not one which he had omitted in his calculations. He said quickly: “Forget my lost arm. It’s no handicap. The important thing is, how many men can you count on?” “About a hundred. Two hundred more would shift over if they dared, but they'll wait till the tide has turned. That leaves two hundred solidly against us, and they can ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION probably dragoon another hundred into fighting for them.” “A hundred is enough,” said Pendrake. “The world is run by small groups of men Two hundred thousand determined men overthrew the Czarist regime in a Russia of a hundred and fifty million people. Hitler took control of Germany with a compara- tively small body of active followers. But here’s some advice, Devlin.” “Ves.” “Take the water source. Take the places that are guarded, and hold them at all costs. Kill every one of the two hundred who are solidly for Big Oaf, even if they beg for mercy. On Earth we have the Shaposhenko punishment for their kind with its careful gradations, but that’s impossible here.” Pen- drake paused, then: “How many wives have you got, Devlin?” The man started, changed color. He said at last, violently: “We’d better leave the women out of this, Pendrake. Our men have been so long without women that—we’d lose all our followers.” “How many wives?” steadily. Devlin stared at him. He was pale now, his voice harsher. “Big Oaf’s been clever,” he admitted. “When we captured those Ger- man women he gave every one of his said Pendrake hundred most determined enemies two wives.”” “Tell your men,” said Pendrake, “to choose the one they prefer, and leave the other alone. Do you understand?” Devlin was on his feet. said in a thick voice, “I’m warning you, leave this subject be. It’s dynamite.” “You fool!’ Pendrake snapped at him. “Don’t you see that you’ve got to start right? The human mind is a deadly instru- ment that gets into certain habits. If the habits are wrong—and the very idea of two wives makes chattel out of women and its therefore utterly wrong—I repeat, if the habits are wrong you can’t just start re- fashioning the mind. You’ve got to break _ that matrix by death and begin with a fresh one.” He broke off: “Besides, you people haven’t any choice. You’re all slated to be killed, and those wives are designed to keep you quiet until the right opportunity occurs. You know that, don’t you?” Devlin nodded reluctantly. “I guess you’re right.” “You bet I’m right,” said Pendrake coldly. “And I might as well make my position comiclooks “Pendrake,” he (©