"From the American taxpayer, of course," replied the Count. "Something less than a dollar from each one of them over the period of a year, I'd say."
"Well, do you suppose that the American taxpayer would be willing to part with fifty million dollars so you can have a hot bath?" Tully demanded.
"He certainly wouldn't," said Mountjoy. "But that doesn't matter. He doesn't know about it and rests content in the thought that the money is being spent in rocket research and will take some of the menace out of the exploration of space."
"Then we have no right to deceive the American taxpayers," said Tully.
"Good heavens!" cried the Count of Mountjoy. "Why are you suddenly so virtuous? The American taxpayer's government has been deceiving him for years, lending money to South American dictators, for instance, which the taxpayer thought was being spent on South American peasants. Besides, his own Secretary of State agrees with the deceit. He knows that it is good for the American taxpayer. And it is good for him. It takes the rivalry out of the space race by introducing a third power. That makes the world safer for the American taxpayer, which is the proper objective of the American government. And we get our bathtubs."
"It won't do," said Tully. "This money is going to be spent for the purpose for which it is officially given in this letter, or I will oppose its acceptance, denounce you before the Council of Freemen for exceeding your instructions and thereby betraying the trust reposed in you, and insist the money be returned to the United States of America. With Bentner on my side, that would mean that you are thrown out of office and he would take over as the Prime Minister."
"God forbid!" cried Mountjoy with deep fervor.
"Well, there it is," said Tully. "Take it or leave it."
Mountjoy had been long in the merciless arena of politics. He had seen many otherwise brilliant men ruined because they did not know how to turn defeat into compromise. He knew he was defeated now. But he had a few weapons left and with them he could perhaps achieve a compromise.
"Young man," he said gravely, "I am going to give you a lesson in ethics and statesmanship that students of political science would come from all parts of the world to hear. So listen carefully. I will take as my text the subject of honesty as it affects the present situation. You talk of honesty, but like the greater number of people, you think of honesty primarily in terms of money. Yours is a mercantile point of view and a poor one. There is an honesty of friendship and an honesty of principle. There is an honesty and an honor among thieves and an honesty and honor among statesmen and politicians, though the vulgar may jeer at the concept.
"You see here only fifty million dollars which is a sum of money, and are concerned that it be honestly spent. But there is also here another sum—a sum of trust—which cannot be expressed in money. It is the trust which the United States of America reposes in us to accept this money and so help them in this plan to internationalize the exploration of space and the conquest of the moon.
"That plan, I agree, was mine. I put it forward in all good faith to the Secretary of State. He has accepted it in all good faith.
"It would be dishonest to the point of treachery for us to withdraw now—far more dishonest than the misappropriation of sums of money far greater than that with which we arc concerned.
"If we withdraw, we have spent our credit of honor with America. We have proposed a plan to them and when they have accepted it, we have reneged on them. We become, in matters of faith, untrustworthy and bankrupt, now and for all time.
"In the final analysis, my boy, the strength and safety of nations rests not on treaties or grand agreements at conferences, but on the trust each nation reposes in the other. The United States trusts us to accept this money so that they can go forward with their plan of an announcement of the grant before the United Nations to promote the internationalization of the conquest of space. We cannot; we must not let them down."
This little homily had some effect upon Tully. "I am not proposing to send the money back," he said slowly. "I am merely insisting that it be spent on rocket research."
"I am relieved to hear that you are not thinking of returning it," said the Count of Mountjoy. "We reach a basic agreement here then. There remains only the matter of expenditure. You are aware, of course, that considerable benefit will accrue to our people by the expenditure of such an enormous sum within our boundaries—if the expenditure is wisely directed."
"What do you mean by wisely directed?" asked Tully.
"Well, if the money is put into rocket research, there is no benefit to anyone in Grand Fenwick. Dr. Kokintz alone is employed and at the present moment his requirements seem to run to nothing more than a few photographic plates.
"If, however, not all the money is spent on rocket research, but a reasonable proportion upon works of benefit to all the people—work in which they can be employed and which will bring others into the country to spend money…"
"Meaning roads, a hotel and plumbing," interrupted Tully.
"We can skip the hotel," said Mountjoy. "At least for the present. But if the plumbing facilities of the castle were modernized with some portion of the money, and perhaps one wing set aside with facilities for tourists—rather like the Portuguese have done with some of their castles—then there would be an immediate and a lasting benefit to the people of Grand Fenwick.
"I would point out that we are not likely ever again in all our history to have such funds available. We can do this now. Or we can never do it. And much as I respect your feelings for the American taxpayer, I am sure I don't have to remind you that your first concern must be for the Grand Fenwick taxpayers."
"How much?" asked Tully.
"Five millions," said the Count without batting an eyelid. The sum for which I originally asked. What you and Kokintz do with the forty-five million dollars for which I did not ask, I leave entirely to you."
Tully thought about this for a while and then said, "All right. Five million for the castle and the road. The rest for rocket research."
"Agreed," said the Count and they shook hands. He had not snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. He had done what is often more difficult—snatched compromise from the jaws of disaster. He was very pleased with himself.
CHAPTER VII
The announcement of a free grant of $50,000,000 to the Duchy of Grand Fenwick for research on sending a manned rocket to the moon was made at a meeting of the General Assembly of the United Nations and produced the only sensation of an extraordinarily dull session of that unwieldy but fast-growing body.
Prior to the announcement there had been an open discussion of the problem of internationalizing space exploration—to the utter befuddlement of the representatives of some of the younger nations. These, sent at enormous expense to New York from remote parts of Equatorial Africa, each nursing some acute problem concerning its claim to a gold mine or a section of a muddy river, or a thousand square miles of jungle into which few but pygmies had ever penetrated, found the great nations of the world at loggerheads over who should own the moon.
To many of them it all appeared utter nonsense and to some of them downright sacrilegious, it being held by some, not necessarily by the envoys but by the more simple of the people they represented, that the moon was an egg laid by a giant fish which swam through the sky, its wake being the Milky Way. It would go hard with these envoys, indeed, on returning to their people to report that Russia and the United States were quarreling for possession of this sacred fish egg, and one envoy sent a touching note in duplicate to the United States and the Soviet Union, asking that they leave the sacred fish egg alone, but assist in reducing beriberi, which afflicted twenty per cent of the people in his small country.
The debate, then, over the moon had occupied much of the business of this particular meeting of the General Assembly and the United States delegate had neatly maneuvered the Russian delegate into a trap. He had talked long and with sincerity about the American ideal of internationalization of space research and the
Russian delegate, leaping to his feet, had shouted, "The words of the United States of America are, as usual, and to nobody's surprise, at a complete variance with her actions. Here we have millions of words spoken about international cooperation in this area, but what are the actions of the leading capitalist nation?
"Well, I turn to figures officially published by the Government of the United States and these figures tell me that in the past year the United States of America in an accelerated program has expended two billion dollars on research aimed at getting first to the moon. So while the delegate of the United States talks here of a joint international venture, the Government of the United States is pouring vast sums of money and vast amounts of time and energy into getting first to the moon, so that it can claim the moon for its own territory.
"But we, who represent the aspirations of the working peoples of the world and are their true guardians and whose astronauts have already on several occasions circled the earth, will not permit this extension of the decadent capitalist philosophy into space, and on behalf of mankind are ourselves rushing plans to get first to the moon.
"In fact, we have already some years ago landed a rocket on the moon with painted on its side the flag of our country—representing, of course, the working people of all countries…"
"Workers of the moon—unite," murmured the British delegate and smiled charmingly at the Russian, who glowered back at him.
"I am afraid I have to correct the figures quoted by my colleague from the Soviet Union," interrupted the American delegate, "but let me hasten to add that in this case he is not to be blamed for his error. The correct figure is not two billion dollars, but two billion and fifty million dollars."
"That's even worse," said the Russian and he looked around at the delegates of all the new African nations, "but in the interests of the workers we will match it."
"I am glad to hear of that," said the American delegate mildly, "and hope that the Soviet Union will not go back on the promise just made. We have indeed spent two billion on our own research. And we have given fifty million dollars as an outright grant to the Duchy of Grand Fenwick to conduct independent research of its own accord, without any control by ourselves or reference to ourselves. We have done this to internationalize the space race. If I may quote a Texas proverb to my Russian colleague, we have put our money where our mouth was.
"May I invite the Soviet Union to do the same. We have had a promise before this assembly a moment ago that the Soviet Union would match our efforts. Perhaps they will announce now to what nation, independent of themselves, they will make a similar grant for this purpose."
The Russian delegate was utterly dumbfounded by the way the tables were so suddenly turned upon him. He consulted hurriedly with his colleague, then scooped up a bundle of papers on the table before him, and departed, followed by his assistants, leaving the United States the clear victor in the whole debate.
When the Russian had gone, the United States delegate expanded on the purpose and terms of the grant to Grand Fenwick. He admitted that the idea had been proposed by Grand Fenwick. He said that ordinarily such an application would have been turned down were it not for the fact that Grand Fenwick possessed in the person of Dr. Kokintz one of the world's outstanding physicists. The United States was happy to facilitate the work of so great a man on a project of importance to all the world. He said that the world would without a doubt rejoice that this genius of science was now able to work on this problem, that the United States would render all the aid it could to his researches, while leaving him completely free to work as he wished.
The delegate concluded by circulating among the members of the Assembly extracts of the relevant correspondence between the Duchy of Grand Fenwick and the United States of America on the subject. (These extracts included, of course, the letter from the Count of Mountjoy, but the reference to the fur coat for Her Grace Gloriana XII had naturally been left out.)
The announcement produced a sensation.
The delegate from Iraq gained the floor to express on behalf of his government its confidence in the sincerity of the United States, and his little speech was received with such thunderous applause that it was plain the whole Assembly shared the sentiment. The victory then was complete, and the Soviet Union was immediately placed in the position of matching the American gesture or devising some propaganda line to offset its effect.
In Grand Fenwick itself, the effect was not so happy. The Count of Mountjoy had summoned a meeting of the Council of Freemen in the Jericho chamber of the castle to announce the grant, timing the meeting to coincide with the announcement by the United States before the General Assembly.
The Duchess Gloriana had, of course, been informed privately of the grant and was appalled. She was very glad indeed to know that she could have her fur coat and that it would not cost the people of Grand Fenwick anything. But it worried her to have such a huge sum of money put into the treasury of the nation, and it took all the persuasions of Mountjoy to assure her that no terrible disaster would befall her country as a result of this sudden access of riches.
Your Grace," said Mountjoy, not without a touch of revenge, "you admonished me to think big. I thought big. The United States thought bigger. Now let us prove equal to the enormous opportunities so unexpectedly put before us. With this money we will make Grand Fenwick the tourist paradise of the world. We will have a hotel which, for service and cuisine, will rival the Ritz in Lisbon. We will have an enormous influx of money from visitors, and in a few years fifty million dollars will perhaps be but a trifle of our national budget."
"Bobo, do you really think it will be all right?" asked Gloriana seriously. "I mean we are not cheating anyone? And Grand Fenwick isn't going to become so prosperous that it—well, that it's all changed and ruined?"
"Do not concern yourself, Your Grace," said the Count, and happily recalling a phrase of Sir Winston Churchill's he added, "I have not become Your Grace's Prime Minister to preside over the dissolution of Grand Fenwick." Then he left, tall, silver-haired and stately, and Gloriana, watching him go, sighed and wondered how many rulers were so well served by so handsome (although elderly) a man.
Mountjoy had for a time considered breaking the news of the grant to Bentner in advance of the official announcement to the Council of Freemen. He decided not to do so, suspecting that Bentner by his very nature would oppose the acceptance of the grant and might, in some bumbling way, ruin the whole arrangement. But he determined to have a private conference with Bentner after the official announcement in which he would hint at certain aspects of the use of the funds which would result in a larger proportion being devoted to Mountjoy's own purposes. It would be better for the success of this plan if the idea came from Bentner as leader of the Labor Party.
Bentner did oppose the grant.
He was flabbergasted when it was announced at the meeting. He made it clear that in his opinion Grand Fenwick's business began and ended at the borders of Grand Fenwick and by no means extended into the solitudes of space to embrace the moon.
He saw, and rightly, the Machiavellian mind of the Count of Mountjoy in the whole offer, and he was outraged at the way in which the Count had utterly exceeded his license from the Council and under the guise of obtaining a fur coat had plunged Grand Fenwick into the cockpit of international affairs, there to cut, as he saw it, a ridiculous figure before the whole world. No smooth phrases of the Count's were equal to the task of quelling Bentner's wrath.
"Traitor," he cried again and again, pointing his finger at the Prime Minister, and his most damning indictment came when he asked the Council of Freemen what confidence they could put in a premier who called them into session only to deceive them, who utterly abused the authority conferred upon him and who used the ancient Parliament of Grand Fenwick as a front behind which he carried on his own secret and personal form of government.
"The action of the Count of Mountjoy, the deliberate deceit he has practiced on us all demands his impeachment,"
stormed Bentner. And he there and then offered a motion that Mountjoy be impeached for abusing his position as Prime Minister.
There were twelve members of the Council and the vote was six for and six against impeachment. The deciding vote lay with Tully Bascomb and he voted against the measure and so the Count escaped this, the most perilous passage, of his whole political career.
But there was as bad to come. Bentner, not to be rebuffed, demanded that the Parliament be dissolved and that a general election be held since the government, headed by Mountjoy, had lost the confidence of Parliament. This vote carried, by eight to four, and Mountjoy had the unpleasant task of tendering his resignation to the Duchess Gloriana and setting a date for a general election.
The general election was held in a hurry, for the ripening vines required the attention of the vineyard workers and spring-lambing time was in full swing.
But despite the hurry it was furiously fought with public meetings held every evening, Bentner denouncing Mountjoy and his party as power-mad, determined to crush the workers of Grand Fenwick with grandiose schemes which would ruin the nation. "This madman will crush the nation under the weight of the moon," Bentner exclaimed in one of his more inspired moments. And for the rest of the campaign be referred to Mountjoy as the "Moonstruck Meddler?"
Mountjoy was more subtle. He did no campaigning at all, contenting himself by mentioning to the castle servants who brought him his bath water up three hundred steps each day, that they would be relieved of this onerous task if the election went in his favor and he was allowed to use a portion of the American funds to install proper plumbing in the castle.
The word went around and with it the hope of plumbing in the houses of all the people of Grand Fenwick. The agricultural workers were solidly behind Bentner; strongly suspicious of the American offer and its effect on their country. Their wives, laboring with kettles to fill wooden tubs in which to do their laundry, were solidly behind Mountjoy. Mountjoy's party carried the election handsomely, so that it might be said that washtubs set Grand Fenwick on its way to the moon—as strange a development of history as the world has ever witnessed.
The Mouse On The Moon: eBook Edition (The Grand Fenwick Series 2) Page 6