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Authors: Michael Moorcock
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our situation. There was some confusion, a wait of nearly twenty minutes while the operator checked with his superiors, some more confusion over the location of the island and then at last Dempsey leaned back and sighed. “Thank you, Darwin.”
As he stripped off the headset he glanced down at me. “You’re lucky. They’ll have one of their patrol ships over here in a day or two—if it hasn’t been shot down. You’d better tell the others to pack their bags and be ready.”
“I’m very grateful, Dempsey,” I said. “I don’t think I’d have had a chance of getting through if it hadn’t been for you.”
The problems with the wireless had exhausted him. He got up and began to rummage around in the office until he found an almost full bottle of rum. He opened it, took a long drink, then offered it to me.
I accepted the bottle and sipped the rum, gasping. It was raw stuff. I handed it back and watched with a certain amount of respect as he finished it.
We left the office and began to walk across the airpark. As we approached the mast he paused and looked up through the girders. The passenger lift was at the top of the mast, presumably left there by the last hasty group to go aboard the ship when it had taken the bulk of the Europeans off the island. “This won’t be any good,” he said. “Nobody to work it, even if it was in decent condition. The ship will have to come right down. It’s going to be a problem. Everybody will have to muck in.”
“Will you help me?”
“If I’m conscious.”
“I heard you commanded an airship once,” I said.
Then I regretted my curiosity for a peculiar look of pained amusement came over his face. “Yes. Yes, I did. For a very short time.”
I dropped it. “Let me get you a drink,” I said.
* * *
O lmeijer was in his usual spot at the bar, reading his book. Nye was not there. The Dutchman looked up and nodded to us. He made no mention of the previous night’s business and I didn’t bring it up. I told him that we had managed to get through to Darwin and that they were sending an airship. He seemed unimpressed. I think he enjoyed his role as the last hotelier on the island. He would rather have customers who couldn’t pay than no customers at all. Dempsey and I took our drinks to one of the tables near the window.
“You’ve been a great help, Dempsey,” I said.
Cynically he stared at me over the rim of his glass. “Am I helping? I may be doing you a disservice. Do you really want to go back to all that?”
“I think it’s my duty.”
“Duty? To support the last vestiges of a discredited imperialism?”
It was the first time I had heard him utter anything like a political opinion. I was surprised. He sounded like a bit of a Red, I thought. I could think of no answer which wouldn’t have been impolite.
He downed the rest of his scotch and stared out over the airpark, speaking as if to himself. “It’s all a question of power and rarely a question of justice.” He looked sharply at me. “Don’t patronize me, Bastable. I don’t need your kindness, thanks. If you knew...” He broke off. “Another?”
I watched Dempsey walk unsteadily to the bar and then get fresh drinks. He brought them back almost reluctantly.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just—well, you seem to have a lot on your mind. I thought a sympathetic ear...”
There was a very strange look in his eyes now. “Sympathetic? I wonder how sympathetic you would stay if I told you what was really on my mind. There’s a war taking place, Bastable. I heard you speculating yesterday about how it started. I know how the war started. I know who started it, too. It was a bloody accident.”
I restrained my exclamation of astonishment and waited to hear more, but Dempsey leaned back in the wicker chair and closed his eyes, his lips moving as he spoke to himself.
I went to get him another drink, but he was already asleep when I returned. I let him sleep and joined Olmeijer at the
As he stripped off the headset he glanced down at me. “You’re lucky. They’ll have one of their patrol ships over here in a day or two—if it hasn’t been shot down. You’d better tell the others to pack their bags and be ready.”
“I’m very grateful, Dempsey,” I said. “I don’t think I’d have had a chance of getting through if it hadn’t been for you.”
The problems with the wireless had exhausted him. He got up and began to rummage around in the office until he found an almost full bottle of rum. He opened it, took a long drink, then offered it to me.
I accepted the bottle and sipped the rum, gasping. It was raw stuff. I handed it back and watched with a certain amount of respect as he finished it.
We left the office and began to walk across the airpark. As we approached the mast he paused and looked up through the girders. The passenger lift was at the top of the mast, presumably left there by the last hasty group to go aboard the ship when it had taken the bulk of the Europeans off the island. “This won’t be any good,” he said. “Nobody to work it, even if it was in decent condition. The ship will have to come right down. It’s going to be a problem. Everybody will have to muck in.”
“Will you help me?”
“If I’m conscious.”
“I heard you commanded an airship once,” I said.
Then I regretted my curiosity for a peculiar look of pained amusement came over his face. “Yes. Yes, I did. For a very short time.”
I dropped it. “Let me get you a drink,” I said.
* * *
O lmeijer was in his usual spot at the bar, reading his book. Nye was not there. The Dutchman looked up and nodded to us. He made no mention of the previous night’s business and I didn’t bring it up. I told him that we had managed to get through to Darwin and that they were sending an airship. He seemed unimpressed. I think he enjoyed his role as the last hotelier on the island. He would rather have customers who couldn’t pay than no customers at all. Dempsey and I took our drinks to one of the tables near the window.
“You’ve been a great help, Dempsey,” I said.
Cynically he stared at me over the rim of his glass. “Am I helping? I may be doing you a disservice. Do you really want to go back to all that?”
“I think it’s my duty.”
“Duty? To support the last vestiges of a discredited imperialism?”
It was the first time I had heard him utter anything like a political opinion. I was surprised. He sounded like a bit of a Red, I thought. I could think of no answer which wouldn’t have been impolite.
He downed the rest of his scotch and stared out over the airpark, speaking as if to himself. “It’s all a question of power and rarely a question of justice.” He looked sharply at me. “Don’t patronize me, Bastable. I don’t need your kindness, thanks. If you knew...” He broke off. “Another?”
I watched Dempsey walk unsteadily to the bar and then get fresh drinks. He brought them back almost reluctantly.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just—well, you seem to have a lot on your mind. I thought a sympathetic ear...”
There was a very strange look in his eyes now. “Sympathetic? I wonder how sympathetic you would stay if I told you what was really on my mind. There’s a war taking place, Bastable. I heard you speculating yesterday about how it started. I know how the war started. I know who started it, too. It was a bloody accident.”
I restrained my exclamation of astonishment and waited to hear more, but Dempsey leaned back in the wicker chair and closed his eyes, his lips moving as he spoke to himself.
I went to get him another drink, but he was already asleep when I returned. I let him sleep and joined Olmeijer at the
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