by Nick Carter
"Sit down and shut up or I'll knock you down again."
Nick unlocked Amir from the thwart and gave him the key so that he could free his other wrist. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you…"
"Listen to your father," Nick said to stop him.
Siauw was yelling orders, threats, and what were probably oaths in three or four languages. The cruiser had drifted about fifteen feet from the launch. Nick reached over the side and pulled Nife aboard and stripped him of his armament as if plucking a chicken. Nife grabbed for the Mauser and Nick chopped him beside the head with his other hand. A moderate blow but it put Nife down at the feet of the Jap sailor.
"Hey," Nick yelled at Siauw. "Hey…" Siauw sputtered to silence. "Don't you want your son back? Here he is."
"You'll die for this!" Siauw yelled in English. "Nobody asked for your goddam interference!" He shouted commands in Indonesian at the two men with him, at the men on the dock.
Nick said to Amir. "You want to go back to Judas?"
"I'll die first. Get behind me. He's telling Abdul Nono to shoot you. They've got rifles in the scale house and they are good shots."
The slim youth deliberately moved between Nick and the shore buildings. He called to his father. "I won't go back. Don't shoot. This man is for us."
Siauw looked as if he might explode like a balloon filled with hydrogen brought near a flame. But he was silent.
"Who are you?" Amir asked.
"They say I'm an American agent. Anyway — I want to help you. We can take the ship and free the others. Your father and the other families don't agree. What do you say?"
"I say fight." Amir's face glowed, then dulled as he added, "But they will be hard to convince."
Nife and the sailor were crawling erect. "Handcuff those two to each other," Nick said. Let the boy feel a victory. Amir put the irons on the men as if he enjoyed doing it.
"Let them go," Siauw called.
"We must fight," Amir answered. "I'm not going back. You don't understand these people. They will kill us all anyway. You cannot buy them." He switched to Indonesian and exchanged bursts of argument with his father. It had to be argument, Nick decided — with all those gestures and explosive sounds.
After awhile Amir turned to Nick. "I think he is convinced just a little. He is going to talk with his guru."
"His what?"
"His counselor. His… I don't know the word in English. You can say religious advisor but it's more like…"
"His psychiatrist?" Nick provided the word partly as a disgusted joke.
"Yes, in a way! The man who guides his life."
"Oh, brother." Nick checked the Mauser and slipped it into the waistband of his trunks. "All right — herd those guys forward and I'll take this tub in to shore."
* * *
Hans talked to Nick while he showered and dressed. There was no hurry — Siauw had scheduled a meeting in three hours. Muller, Nife and the sailor had been taken away by Siauw's men and Nick had felt it wisest not to protest.
"We're in a bunch of hornets," Hans said. "I thought Amir could convince his father. Return of the beloved progeny. He really loves the boy but he still thinks he can do business with Judas. I think he has phoned some of the other families and they agree."
Nick was strapping on Hugo. Wouldn't Nife like to add this stiletto to his collection? It was made of the finest steel obtainable. "It seems to run up and down the line, Hans. Even the big shots have been bowing their necks so long they'd rather connive than face a clash. They'll have to change fast or the twentieth-century types like Judas will chew them up and spit them out. What's this guru like?"
"His name is Buduk. Some of these gurus are splendid men. Scholars. Theologians. Real psychologists and so on. Then there are the Buduks."
"He's a thief?"
"He's a politician."
"You answered my question."
"He's got it made here. The rich man's philosopher with extra intuition he gets from the spirit world. You know the jazz. I never trusted him, but the reason I know he's phoney is because little Abu slipped me the word. Our holy man is a secret swinger when he slips away to Djakarta."
"Can I see him?"
"I think so. I'll ask."
"Go ahead."
Hans returned in ten minutes. "Sure. I'll take you to him. Siauw is still mad. He practically spat at me."
They followed an interminable winding path under thick trees to the small, neat house occupied by Buduk. Most of the native houses huddled together, but the sage apparently required seclusion. He greeted them seated cross-legged on cushions in a clean, barren room. Hans introduced Nick and Buduk nodded impassively, "I have heard much about Mr. Bard and the problem."
"Siauw says he wants your advice," Nick said bluntly. "I suggest he resists. He believes he can negotiate."
"Violence is never a good solution."
"Peace is best," Nick agreed smoothly. "But would you call a man a fool if he sat still in front of a tiger?"
"Sit still? You mean patience. And then the gods may tell the tiger to go away."
"What if we hear a loud hungry rumble from the tiger's belly?"
Buduk frowned. Nick guessed that his clientele rarely argued with him. The old boy was slow. Buduk said, "I will meditate and give my suggestions."
"If you suggest that we be brave, that we must fight because we will win, I would be very grateful."
"I hope my counsel pleases you as well as Siauw and the powers of earth and sky."
"Counsel fight," Nick said softly, "and there will be three thousand dollars awaiting you. In Djakarta or anywhere you want it. In gold or any way you like it." He heard Hans gasp. It wasn't the amount — for an operation of this type it was a trifle. Hans thought he was too blunt.
Buduk didn't bat an eye. "Your generosity is surprising. With such money I could do much good."
"Is it agreed?"
"Only the gods will tell. I will answer at the meeting very soon."
On the way back along the path Hans said, "Nice try. You surprised me. But I guess it's best to get it out into the open."
"He didn't go along."
"I think you're right. He's out to hang us."
"He's either working directly for Judas or he's got such a racket going here he doesn't want to rock the boat. He's like the families — his spine is a piece of wet macaroni."
"Have you wondered why we're not guarded?"
"I can guess. We wouldn't get a mile?"
"Right. I heard Siauw issuing orders."
"Can you get Tala in to see us?"
"I think so. See you at the room in a few minutes."
It took longer than a few minutes, but Nordenboss returned with Tala. She came straight to Nick and held his arm and looked into his eyes. "I saw. I hid in a shed. The way you rescued Amir was wonderful."
"Have you talked to him?"
"No. His father has kept him with him. They were arguing."
"Amir wants to resist?"
"Well — he did. But if you heard Siauw…"
"Plenty of pressure?"
"Obedience is such a habit with us."
Nick drew her to a couch. "Tell me about Buduk. I'm sure he is against us. He will advise Siauw to send Amir back with Muller and the others."
Tala lowered her dark eyes. "I hope it is no worse."
"How could it be?"
"You have embarrassed Siauw. Buduk may permit him to punish you. This meeting — it will be a big thing. Did you know that? Since everyone knows what you have done and it was against both Siauw and Buduk's wishes there is — well, a matter of face."
"My god! Now it's face."
"Rather Buduk's gods. Their faces and his."
Hans chuckled. "Glad we're not on the island to the north. They eat you up there, Al. Broiled with onion and sauces."
"Very funny."
Hans sighed. "Come to think of it — not so funny."
Nick asked Tala, "Siauw was willing to withhold final judgment about resisting fo
r a few days until I grabbed Muller and the others, then he got all upset even though he has his son back. Why? He turns to Buduk. Why? Amir is softening up according to what I can figure. Why? Buduk refused a bribe although I hear he takes. Why?"
"People," Tala said sadly.
The one word reply puzzled Nick. People? "Sure — people. But what are the angles? This deal is developing into a regular cobweb of reasons…"
"Let me try to explain, Mr. Bard," Hans interjected smoothly. "Even with the useful idiocy of the masses, rulers have to be careful. They learn to use power but cater to emotions and above all to what we can laughingly call public opinion. Are you with me?"
"Your irony comes through," Nick answered. "Go on."
"If six determined people turned against a Napoleon or a Hitler or a Stalin or Franco — poof!"
"Poof?"
"If they have real determination. To put a bullet or a knife in a despot without regard for their own death."
"All right. I buy that."
"But these conniving types not only prevent a half-dozen making a decision — they control hundreds of thousands — millions! You can't do it with a gun on your hip. But it's done! So subtly that poor fools burn themselves up as an example instead of getting next to the dictator at a party and shoving a shiv in his gut."
"Granted. Although it would take a few months or years to worm your way next to the big shot."
"What's that if you are really determined? But the leaders have to keep them so confused they never develop such purpose. How is it done? By controlling the mass of people. Never let 'em think. So to your questions to Tala. Siauw let us stay to play the angles. See if there was a way to use us against Judas — and ride with the winner. You went into action in front of a few dozen of his people, and the word of it is halfway across his little kingdom by now. You got his son back. People wonder why he didn't do it? They may figure out how he and the rich families played along. The rich call it wise tactics. The poor may call it cowardice. The people have simple principles. Amir softens up? I can imagine what his father is telling him about his duty to the dynasty. Buduk? He would take anything that's not red hot if he didn't have a pot holder or gloves. He'd have asked you for more than three thousand, and gotten it I suppose, but he knows — intuitively or practically, just as Siauw does — they have the people to impress."
Nick rubbed his head. "Maybe you follow this, Tala. Is he right?"
Her soft lips pouted close to his cheek as if she pitied his slow wit. "Yes. When you see thousands of the people gathered at the temple you will understand."
"What temple?"
"Where the meeting with Buduk and the others will be held and he will make his suggestions."
Hans added cheerfully, "It's a very old structure. Magnificent. They used to have human barbecues there a century or so ago. And trials by combat. The people aren't so dumb about some things. They'd draw up their armies and let two champions fight it out. Similar to the Mediterranean practice. David and Goliath. It was the most popular entertainment. Like the Roman games. Real action with real blood…"
"Issue challenges and all that?"
"Yes. The big shots had it rigged so that only their professional scrappers could be challenged. After awhile the citizens learned to keep their mouths shut. The great champion, Saadi in the last century, killed ninety-two men in individual combat."
Tala brightened. "He was invincible."
"How did he die?"
"An elephant stepped on him. He was only forty."
"I'd say the elephant was invincible," Nick said gloomily. "Why haven't they disarmed us, Hans?"
"You'll see — at the temple."
* * *
Amir and three armed men arrived at Nick's room, "to show them the way."
The Loponusias heir was apologetic. "Thank you for what you did for me. I hope everything — works out."
Nick said bluntly, "Looks as if some of the fight has been taken out of you."
Amir flushed and turned to Tala. "You shouldn't be alone with these strangers."
"I'll be alone with whom I please."
"You need an injection, boy," Nick said. "Half guts and half brains."
It took Amir an instant to understand. His hand went to the big kris in his belt. Nick said, "Forget it. Your Dad wants us." He went out the door leaving Amir red and glaring.
They walked for nearly a mile through the twisting paths, past Buduk's spacious grounds, into a meadow-like plain hidden by giant trees that made the sun-washed building in the center stand out impressively. It was a giant, eye-stopping hybrid of architecture and statuary. A blend of centuries of interwoven religions. The dominant structure was a two-story high Buddha-like figure with a golden cap.
"Is that real gold?" Nick asked.
"Yes," Tala answered. "There are many jewels inside. They are guarded day and night by the holy ones."
"I wasn't planning to steal them," Nick said.
In front of the statue was a wide, permanent reviewing stand now occupied by a number of men, and on the plain in front of them was a solid mass of people. Nick tried to guess — eight thousand — nine? And more pouring in from the rim of the field like ribbons of ants from the forests. There were armed men flanking the reviewing stand, and some of the people seemed grouped, as if they were special clubs, bands or dancing teams. "They drew all these in three hours?" he asked Tala.
"Yes."
"Wow. Tala — whatever happens stay near me to interpret and talk for me. And don't be afraid to speak loud."
She squeezed his arm. "I'll help if I can."
A voice boomed over a public address system. "Mr. Nordenboss — Mr. Bard — please join us on the sacred steps."
Plain wooden seats had been saved for them. Muller, Nife and the Japanese sailor sat a few yards away. There were plenty of guards and they looked tough.
Siauw and Buduk took turns at the microphone. Tala explained — her tones more and more dejected, "Siauw says you betrayed his hospitality and ruined his plans. Amir was sort of a business hostage for a project of benefit to all."
"He would have made a great pretzel twister," Nick growled.
"Buduk says Muller and the others are to be freed with apologies." She gasped as Buduk rattled on. "And…"
"What?"
"You and Nordenboss are to be sent with them. As payment for our impoliteness."
Siauw replaced Buduk at the mike. Nick stood up, held Tala by the hand and forced his way to Siauw. Forced — because by the time he covered the twenty feet two guards were hanging on his arms. Nick called on his small store of Indonesian and bellowed, "Bung Loponusias — I want to speak of your son, Amir. About the handcuffs. About his courage."
Siauw gestured angrily to the guards. They yanked. Nick twisted his arms toward their thumbs and broke their grips easily. They grabbed again. He did it again. The roar from the crowd was amazing. It flooded over them like the first wind of a hurricane.
"I speak of courage," Nick yelled. "Amir has courage!"
The crowd screamed enthusiastically. More! Excitement! Anything! Let the Orang America talk. Or kill him. But let's not go back to work. Tapping rubber trees doesn't look like hard work, but it is.
Nick got a hand around the microphone and yelled, "Amir is brave! I can tell you all!"
This was something like it! The crowd whooped and roared with the mass reaction of all crowds when you needle their emotions. Siauw motioned the guards away. Nick held up both hands above his head as if he knew he could speak. It took a minute for the cacophony to subside.
Siauw said in English, "You have said it. Now please sit down." He would have had Nick dragged away, but the American had caught the attention of the crowd. It could turn to sympathy in an instant. Siauw had been handling crowds all his life. Wait…
"Please come here," Nick called and waved to Amir.
The youth joined Nick and Tala, looking confused. First this Al Bard insulted him, now he praised him to the people. The thunder
of acclamation was pleasant.
Nick said to Tala — "now translate this loud and clear…"
"The man Muller has insulted Amir. Let Amir regain his honor…"
Tala shouted the words at the mike.
Nick went on and the girl echoed him, "Muller is old… but he has his champion with him… the man with the knives… Amir demands a test…"
Amir whispered, "I cannot demand a test. Only champions fight for…"
Nick said, "And since Amir cannot fight… I offer myself as his champion! Let Amir regain his honor… let us all regain our honor."
The crowd cared little about honor but a great deal about spectacles and excitement. Their howls were louder than before.
Siauw knew when he was whipped — but he appeared self-satisfied as he said to Nick, "You have made it necessary. All right. Take off your clothes."
Tala was pulling at Nick's arm. He turned, surprised to find her in tears. "No… no," she cried. "The challenger fights without weapons. He will kill you."
Nick gulped. "So that's why the ruler's champion always won." His admiration for Saadi dropped to zero. Those ninety-two setups were victims, not challengers.
Amir said, "I don't understand you, Mr. Bard, but I don't think I want to see you killed. Maybe I can get you a chance to run for it."
Nick saw Muller and Nife and the Japanese sailor laughing. Nife waved his biggest knife suggestively and did a hopping dance. The cheers of the crowd vibrated the stands. Nick thought of a picture of a Roman slave he had seen fighting a fully armed soldier with a club. He had pitied the underdog. The poor slave had no choice — he had drawn his pay and sworn to do his duty.
He peeled off his shirt and the shouts reached a crescendo that was hard on the ears. "No, Amir. We'll try our luck."
"You will probably die."
"There's always a chance for a break."
"Look." Amir pointed at a forty-foot square which was being rapidly cleared in front of the temple. "That's the combat square. It hasn't been used in twenty years. It will be swept and clear. No chance for you to use a trick like throwing dirt in his eyes. If you jump out of the square to grab a weapon the guards have a right to kill you."