now I was well used to Nizam's standard procedure. He accepted a sheaf of papers from me, shuffled it to the bottom of a stack and cleared his throat a little in preparation for English. He very seldom looked at me, except to deliver one of his venomous stares, and he didn't look at me now. “You will extinguish the power plant before midnight twenty-four December,” he said.
“You mean close it down?”
He watched the top paper of his stack, as if it had made a suspicious move. “Yes,” he decided.
“Colonel, if it has to be closed at all, which I fail to see, is there any strong reason for that particular date? Two or three days later could save you some opposition.”
He nodded—at least I thought it was a nod—and shuffled the suspicious paper to the bottom of the stack. “Midnight twenty-four December,” he repeated. “You are dismissed.”
That night, I put the question to Arslan. “We can do without electric lights and electric stoves,” I said. “But that power plant pumps our water, and it's the only practical hope I see for grinding our grain.”
He looked at me without expression. “I have assigned your task,” he said. “Do you forget?”
I could feel myself getting hotter. “Self-sufficiency was the word you used. What's wrong with producing our own electricity?”
“Nothing, if you can also produce your own fuel and your own spare parts. Remember that henceforth your district imports nothing. Nothing.”
That wasn't even true; but if I reminded him that we were already starting to import food, he might just decide to cut off the supply. “I see your point,” I said. “But the plant's there, General. Wouldn't it be more efficient to let us down a little bit easy?”
He laughed. “With all deliberate speed, as your country integrated its schools? No, sir, I have no time for this.”
“Then why not put us back to stone axes right now and get it over with?”
“Again, I have no time for this. I am directing you to follow the path of greatest operational simplicity.”
“All right, then. But why Christmas Eve? I assume that's not coincidental.”
“My soldiers are Moslems, sir.”
“Your soldiers. What about you?”
“Yes, sir, I am a Moslem—as you are a Christian.”
“Most of your troops are Russians. They're not Moslems, are they?”
He grinned sardonically. “Even worse, they are Communist. On the other hand, they have vestiges of Christian tradition. Those who desire to celebrate this Christmas will be permitted to do so. But they will do it without benefit of electricity. Why should your citizens enjoy privileges that my troops lack?”
“General,” I said, “tyrants have been trying to stamp out Christianity for a couple of thousand years, and it hasn't worked yet.”
“Ah, no, sir!” he cried exuberantly. “I do not plan to stamp out any religion. On the contrary, sir! Perhaps I shall crucify one of your citizens, to help the others understand what is involved in Christianity.”
“Do you understand?” I asked as coolly as I could.
He looked good-humoredly up at me from under his eyelids. “Ah, perhaps not, sir. No, in candor, I do not understand Christianity. Can you explain it to me?”
“I don't know. But I'd like very much to try.”
“Good. But not at present.”
“Of course not. You have no time for this.” That made him grin, and I took the opportunity to go on. “If you don't have time for me to tell you anything, how about you telling me something?” He lifted his eyebrows inquiringly. “You say the Government abdicated to you.”
“Various governments.”
“The only reason I even consider believing that, is that it's too unbelievable to be a lie. What pressure could the Premier of Turkistan bring to bear on the President of the United States?”
He put on one of his sweet and gay looks. “Why do you assume that there was pressure? Perhaps it was entirely voluntary.” I didn't say anything. He discarded that look and
“You mean close it down?”
He watched the top paper of his stack, as if it had made a suspicious move. “Yes,” he decided.
“Colonel, if it has to be closed at all, which I fail to see, is there any strong reason for that particular date? Two or three days later could save you some opposition.”
He nodded—at least I thought it was a nod—and shuffled the suspicious paper to the bottom of the stack. “Midnight twenty-four December,” he repeated. “You are dismissed.”
That night, I put the question to Arslan. “We can do without electric lights and electric stoves,” I said. “But that power plant pumps our water, and it's the only practical hope I see for grinding our grain.”
He looked at me without expression. “I have assigned your task,” he said. “Do you forget?”
I could feel myself getting hotter. “Self-sufficiency was the word you used. What's wrong with producing our own electricity?”
“Nothing, if you can also produce your own fuel and your own spare parts. Remember that henceforth your district imports nothing. Nothing.”
That wasn't even true; but if I reminded him that we were already starting to import food, he might just decide to cut off the supply. “I see your point,” I said. “But the plant's there, General. Wouldn't it be more efficient to let us down a little bit easy?”
He laughed. “With all deliberate speed, as your country integrated its schools? No, sir, I have no time for this.”
“Then why not put us back to stone axes right now and get it over with?”
“Again, I have no time for this. I am directing you to follow the path of greatest operational simplicity.”
“All right, then. But why Christmas Eve? I assume that's not coincidental.”
“My soldiers are Moslems, sir.”
“Your soldiers. What about you?”
“Yes, sir, I am a Moslem—as you are a Christian.”
“Most of your troops are Russians. They're not Moslems, are they?”
He grinned sardonically. “Even worse, they are Communist. On the other hand, they have vestiges of Christian tradition. Those who desire to celebrate this Christmas will be permitted to do so. But they will do it without benefit of electricity. Why should your citizens enjoy privileges that my troops lack?”
“General,” I said, “tyrants have been trying to stamp out Christianity for a couple of thousand years, and it hasn't worked yet.”
“Ah, no, sir!” he cried exuberantly. “I do not plan to stamp out any religion. On the contrary, sir! Perhaps I shall crucify one of your citizens, to help the others understand what is involved in Christianity.”
“Do you understand?” I asked as coolly as I could.
He looked good-humoredly up at me from under his eyelids. “Ah, perhaps not, sir. No, in candor, I do not understand Christianity. Can you explain it to me?”
“I don't know. But I'd like very much to try.”
“Good. But not at present.”
“Of course not. You have no time for this.” That made him grin, and I took the opportunity to go on. “If you don't have time for me to tell you anything, how about you telling me something?” He lifted his eyebrows inquiringly. “You say the Government abdicated to you.”
“Various governments.”
“The only reason I even consider believing that, is that it's too unbelievable to be a lie. What pressure could the Premier of Turkistan bring to bear on the President of the United States?”
He put on one of his sweet and gay looks. “Why do you assume that there was pressure? Perhaps it was entirely voluntary.” I didn't say anything. He discarded that look and
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