Part 5 (1/2)

Bey said, ”One of our first jobs is going to have to be to capture a town where they have a broadcast station, say Zinder or In Salah. When we do, we'll announce that you're Foreign Minister.”

Crawford nodded. ”That's obviously the ticket. By that time you should be in New York, with an office opened.”

Jake rubbed a black hand over his cheek as though checking his morning shave. ”It's going to take some money to get started. Once started I can depend on contributions, perhaps, but at first....”

Homer interrupted with, ”Cliff, you're Minister of the Treasury.

Raise some money.”

”Eh?” Cliff Jackson said blankly. The king-size, easy-going Californian looked more like the early Joe Louis than ever.

Everybody laughed. Elmer Allen came forth with his wallet and began pulling out such notes as it contained. ”I don't know what we'd be doing with this in the desert,” he said.

Isobel said, ”I have almost three thousand dollars in a checking account in New York. Let's see if I have my checkbook here.”

The others were going through their pockets. As bank notes in British pounds, American dollars, French francs and Common Europe marks emerged they were tossed to the center of the small table which wobbled on three legs in the middle of the room.

Elmer Allen said, ”I have an account with the Bank of Jamaica in Kingston. About four hundred pounds, I think. I'll have it transferred.”

Cliff took up the money and began counting it, making notations on a notebook pad as he went.

Bey said, ”We're only going to be able to give Jake part of this.”

”How's that?” Elmer growled. ”What use have we for money in the Sahara? Jake's got to put up a decent front in Geneva and New York.”

Bey said doggedly, ”As Defense Minister, I'm opposed to El Ha.s.san's followers _ever_ taking anything without generous payment. We'll need food and various services. From the beginning, we're going to have to pay our way. We can't afford to let rumors start going around that we're nothing but a bunch of brigands.”

”Bey's right,” Homer nodded. ”The El Ha.s.san movement is going to have to maintain itself on the highest ethical level. We're going to take over where the French Camel Corps left off and police North Africa.

There can't be a man from Somaliland to Mauretania who can say that one of El Ha.s.san's followers liberated him from as much as a date.”

Kenny Ballalou said, ”You can always requisition whatever you need and give them a receipt, and then we'll pay off when we come to power.”

”That's out!” Bey snapped. ”Most of these people can't read. And even those that do don't trust what they read. A piece of paper, in their eyes, is no return for some goats, or flour, camels, horses, or whatever else it might be we need. No, we're going to have to pay our way.”

Crawford raked a hand back through his wiry hair. ”Bey's right, Kenny.

It's going to be a rough go, especially at first.”

Kenny snorted. ”What do you mean, _at first?_ What's going to happen, _at second_ to make it any easier? Where're we going to get all this money we'll need to pay for even what we ourselves use, not to speak of the thousands of men we're going to have to have if El Ha.s.san is ever to come to power?”

Bey's eyebrows went up in shocked innocence. ”Kenny, dear boy, don't misunderstand. We don't requisition anything from individuals, or clans, or small settlements. But if we take over a town such as Gao, or Niamey, or Colomb-Bechar, or wherever, there is nothing to say that a legal government such as that of El Ha.s.san, can't requisition the contents of the local banks.”

Homer Crawford said with dignity, ”The term, my dear Minister of Defense, currently is to _nationalize_ the bank. Whether or not we wish to have the banks remain nationalized, after we take over, we can figure out later. But in the early stages, I'm afraid we're going to have to nationalize just about every bank we come in contact with.”

Cliff Jackson said cautiously, ”I haven't said whether or not I'll come in yet, but just as a point, I might mention issuing your own legal tender. As soon as you liberate a printing press somewhere, of course.”

Everyone was charmed at the idea.

Isobel said, ”You can see Cliff was _meant_ to be Minister of Treasury. He's got _wholesale_ larceny in his soul, none of this picayunish stuff such as robbing nomads of their sheep.”

Elmer Allen was shaking his head sadly. ”This whole conversation started with Bey protesting that we couldn't allow ourselves to be thought of as brigands. Now listen to you all.”