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An enemy of peace
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In: Science-Fiction & Fantasy·Novels·American Literature
Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #73586.
The opening · free to read
By RALPH BURKE
When enemies of peace threaten the System, they must be eliminated. There are many ways to do this. And if all else fails, you can always go to war with them.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Fantastic February 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Center City belonged to Lloyd Riddell, and Lloyd Riddell belonged to the city. He had held it together almost single-handed while the white blaze of atomics laid waste the horizon; he had turned panic into determination, defeat into dogged refusal to lie down. He had fought for the city. He had killed for it.
And now the city was threatened again.
"When does Northburg intend to attack us?"
"I--I don't know," Len Colter said. "It all depends on what's going on in David Barr's mind. I lit out for Center City as soon as I heard him making the speech, there in that rubbleheap. The minute I heard him yelling, '_We must wipe out Center City_,' I knew I had to come back here and let you know."
Riddell scowled. "I suppose you did the best thing. But you should have waited. You should have found out when they plan to attack."
"I'm sorry, sir, I--"
"Forget it," Riddell said sharply. "Get going. Get back to Northburg, scout around, find out whatever you can about this invasion. And send Ken Naylor in when you leave."
"Yes, sir."
The youthful spy turned and left. Riddell stared at the boy's back as he passed through the door, then studied the gold letters on the glass door that said "_Mayor of Center City_" in reverse.
He had come to Center City twenty years ago, a frightened, lonely ten-year-old orphan with no place to stay. That had been before the Madness. Center City had taken him in, given him a home, foster parents, all the things denied him so long. Riddell had grown to manhood in the pleasant Ohio town. And when the bombs came, blasting America and changing it from the mightiest country on Earth to a coast-to-coast chain of small towns separated by dreary ruins, Riddell had repaid the town that had once found room for him. Alone, through the smoke-filled night, he had marched through the blasted town, collecting survivors, comforting the people. That night, he had kept Center City alive.
For what? Riddell asked himself bitterly. Did I save this town and rebuild it brick by brick only to have some power-crazed fanatics in the next town destroy it again?
He clenched his powerful fists. "I won't let it happen," he said. "Not while I'm alive. I'll stop Barr some way."
The office door opened, and Ken Naylor entered. Naylor was a big man, almost as tall--though not as broad--as Riddell himself. Riddell had met him for the first time the night of the bombing, and three years later they were still operating as a team.
"I've heard this thing about Northburg," Naylor said without preamble. "What's gotten into them? Are they crazy, trying to conquer America city by city?"
Riddell shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe they think they're going to start a new Roman Empire here in America."
"Do you think we can stop them? We're not too heavy on guns."
"We're not going to go to war, Ken. We're not going to fire a shot."
"What do you mean?"
"I've seen enough war, and I've killed enough men. We'll handle this the sane way. The way I'm trying to teach our youngsters to live."
"There'll be no war. Get out to Drew's farm and pick up the body. Here--here's a permit to use my car." He scribbled a note that would allow Naylor to consume some precious gasoline. "When that's taken care of, move into my office and act as Mayor until I get back--_if_ I get back."
"Where are you going?" Naylor asked.
"I've got to catch Len Colter before he reaches Northburg."
"But I thought...."
"I'll do the thinking," Riddell said. "You do what you're told."
Ten minutes later, Riddell overtook Len Colter, halfway to Northburg. "Go home," Riddell said. "I'm taking you off the job. It's too risky."
Disappointment showed in the boy's eyes. "But I got back safe the first time, sir!"
"I'm giving you an order!" Riddell snapped. "Ben Kingston was just found dead. I don't want you to go the same way."
"But--"
Riddell gestured with an upraised arm. "Don't stand here arguing with me, Len. Go on home!"
The boy turned away, moved slowly back toward town. Riddell watched him for a moment, then walked rapidly toward Northburg and the challenge there.
The road was still in good shape, despite pitted craters here and there, despite an occasional slagheap where a stray blast of atomfire had seared the hillside and sent molten rock spilling down on the highway. Grass was pushing up in the slagheaps, the blasted trees were being replaced by timid saplings, the farms along the way were starting to look like farms again. America was returning to life.
Two hours of war, Riddell thought for the thousandth time. Just two hours of guided ICBMs overhead and a world is destroyed. But we're coming back, now.
A feeling of hatred welled up in him. Hatred for David Barr, the madman who had inflamed the neighboring town of Northburg with dreams of conquest. Who now threatened to bring war back into a world already ruined by war.
Yet Riddell realized dismally that hatred was not the solution. The world was too battered for more hatred. He had vowed there would be no more fighting--but how else could you cope with a man who would enslave you?
There had to be another way to meet the forces of evil without descending to evil yourself.
As he walked through the quiet countryside, Riddell was plagued by the idea that had touched off the nightmare of 1973: Get them before they can get you.
It wasn't the answer he wanted.
Northburg was a rambling, sprawling town that had once been populated by fifty thousand people. Even after the bombings and the subsequent lootings, twelve thousand had survived.
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