Read The Man Who Played to Lose Page 4

like General Rawlinson Hollerith, and less like acorpse. "You got me fanatics, men who hated the Government."

  "Well?"

  "They don't think straight," he said. "There isn't room in their mindsfor any more than that hatred. And they're democratic, just like therest of us. They vote."

  "You set that up," I said. "I had nothing to do with it."

  He nodded. "I know," he said. "There are places where democracy justdoesn't work. Like an armed force. As long as most of the membersthink alike, you're all right. But when a new factor comes into thepicture--why, nobody knows what he's voting for. It becomes a matterof personal preference--which is no way to run a war."

  "All right," I said. "But I got you the men and their arms--"

  "Sure you did," he said. "You got me everything I needed--to hangmyself with." He raised a hand. "I'm not saying you worked against me.You didn't have to."

  "I got you everything you wanted," I said.

  "Sure," he said. "Did you ever hear of jujitsu?"

  "I--"

  "You used my strength against me," he said. "You got me what Iwanted--and did it in such a way that it would ruin me."

  "But the attack was a success," I said.

  He shook his head. "How many men are going to come back?" he said."Fifty? Sixty? How many of them are going to get lost out there,return to the city, try to go up against New Didymus with a heater andnothing else? How many of them have had all the excitement they want?Those are going to head for home. A success--"

  He paused. I waited.

  "There was a general in Greece in the ancient days," he said. "Ageneral named Pyrrhus. He won a battle once, and lost most of his mendoing it. 'For my part,' he said, 'another victory like this and weare undone.' That's the kind of success we had."

  Hollerith had brains. "A Pyrrhic victory," I said.

  "And you know all about it," he said. "You planned it this way."

  I shrugged. "By doing what you wanted done," I said.

  He nodded, very slowly.

  "What now?" I said quietly.

  He acted, for a second, as if he didn't hear me. Then he spoke. "Now,"he said, "we go back. Democracy--it's a limited tool, like anythingelse. No tool is so good that it can be used in every case, on everyproblem. We were wrong. We'd better admit it and go back."

  "But your men--"

  "The good ones know the truth now," he said, "just as I do. The others ...there's nothing else they can do, without me and without the rest of theforce."

  I took a deep breath. It was all over.

  "And now," he said suddenly, "I want you to tell me just who youare."

  "I--"

  "Not James Carson," he said. "And not from Ancarta. Not even fromWohlen."

  "How do you know?" I said.

  "Nobody on this planet," he said, "would do this job in just this way.I'm familiar enough with the top men to be sure of that. You're fromthe Comity."

  "That's right," I said.

  "But ... who are you? What force? What army?"

  "No army," I said. "You might call me a teacher; my corps is made upof teachers. We give lessons--where lessons are needed."

  "A teacher," he said quietly. A long time passed. "Well," he asked,"do I pass the course?"

  "You pass," I told him. "You pass--with high marks, General."

  * * * * *

  I was off-planet within twenty-four hours. Not that Santa Claus didn'twant me to stay longer, when I told him what had happened. Hell, hewanted to throw a banquet and sixteen speeches in my honor. I was aholy Idol all over again. I was superhuman.

  I was glad to get away. What makes them think a man's special, justbecause he uses his brain once in a while?

  THE END

  * * * * *

 
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