The following afternoon the ships Winnipeg, Manitoba, Ontario and Quebec were sunk south-west of Mizen Head. A wave of horror swept over the world. In the evening the BBC announced that His Majesty’s Government had issued an order prohibiting the supply to the Newts of any kind of foodstuffs, chemicals, equipment, weapons or metals. At one o’clock at night an excited voice squawked on the radio: ‘Hello, hello, hello, the Chief Salamander speaking! Hello, the Chief Salamander is about to speak!’ And then came that weary, croaky, angry voice: ‘Hello, you people! Hello, you people! Hello, you people! Do you think we shall allow ourselves to be starved out? Stop your nonsense at once! Any action you take will rebound on you! In the name of all Newts everywhere I am addressing Great Britain. From now on we are imposing a total blockade of the British Isles with the exception of the Irish Free State. I am closing the English Channel. I am closing the Suez Canal. I am closing the Straits of Gibraltar to all shipping. All British ports are closed. All British ships in whatever sea they may be will be torpedoed. Hello, I am addressing Germany. I am increasing my order for high explosives tenfold. To be delivered immediately to the Skagerak main depot. Hello, I am addressing France. Speed up deliveries of the ordered torpedoes to submarine forts C-3, BFF and Ouest-5. Hello, you people! I am warning you. If you restrict deliveries of foodstuffs to us I shall commandeer them myself from your ships. I am warning you again.’ The weary voice sank to a husky, scarcely comprehensible croak. ‘Hello, hello, I am addressing Italy. Prepare to evacuate the region Venice-Padua-Udine. This is my final warning, you people. We’ve had enough of your nonsense.’ There followed a lengthy pause, with a background rushing as of a black and cold sea. Then the cheerful, squawky voice was back again: ‘And now, again from one of your recordings, we shall play that latest success, “The Triton Trot”.’
9
The Vaduz Conference
It was an odd sort of war, if indeed it can be called a war since there was no Newt state nor any recognised Newt government against which war might be formally declared. The first country that found itself in a state of war with the salamanders was Great Britain. During the very first hours the Newts sank virtually all her ships anchored in ports anywhere; there was no way of offering resistance. Only vessels on the high seas were relatively safe for the moment, especially if they were cruising over the deeper ocean areas; thus that section of the British Navy was saved which broke through the blockade of Malta and concentrated above the Ionian Deep. But even these units were soon tracked down by small Newt submarines and sunk one by one. Within the first six weeks Britain lost four-fifths of all her tonnage.
Not for the first time in history did John Bull reveal his famous tenacity. His Majesty’s Government did not negotiate with the Newts nor did it revoke its embargo on supplies. ‘A British gentleman,’ the Prime Minister declared, speaking for the whole nation, ‘will protect animals but he does not negotiate with them.’ Within a few weeks there was a desperate shortage of food in the British Isles. Only children received a small slice of bread and a few spoonfuls of tea or milk daily; the British people bore it all with exemplary fortitude, even though they sank so low as to eat all their racehorses. The Prince of Wales with his own hands ploughed the first furrow on the links of the Royal Golf Club, for carrots to be raised for the London orphanages. The tennis courts at Wimbledon were planted with potatoes, the racecourse at Ascot was sown to wheat. ‘We shall make any sacrifices, even the heaviest,’ the leader of the Conservative Party assured Parliament, ‘but we will not surrender British honour.’
Because the blockade of the British sea coasts was complete, Britain was left with but one way of importing supplies and maintaining contact with the colonies, and that was by air. ‘We must have 100,000 aircraft,’ the Air Minister announced, and anyone possessing hands and feet placed themselves in the service of that slogan. Feverish preparations were made to ensure a daily output of 1,000 aircraft; but that was where the governments of the other European states intervened with sharp protests against a violation of the balance in the air; the British government had to desist from its air programme and undertake not to build more than 20,000 aircraft, and that only over a period of five years. So there was no alternative to continuing to go hungry or to paying horrendous prices for foodstuffs supplied by the aircraft of other countries; a pound loaf cost ten shillings, a brace of rats one guinea, a tin of caviare twenty-five pounds. This was a great time for continental trade, industry and agriculture. As the navy had been eliminated from the start, military operations against the Newts were conducted on land and from the air. The land forces fired their guns and machine-guns into the water, without, however, seeming to inflict any significant losses on the salamanders. Aerial bombardment of the sea was a little more successful. The Newts retaliated by shelling the British ports with their underwater guns, reducing them to heaps of rubble. They also shelled London from the Thames Estuary, whereupon army command made an attempt to poison the salamanders with bacteria, crude oil and caustic substances poured into the Thames and into certain bays of the sea. To this the Newts replied by releasing a screen of poison gas over one hundred and twenty kilometres of British coastline. It was only a demonstration but it sufficed: for the first time in history the British government was obliged to request other powers to intervene, referring to the prohibition of gas warfare.
The following night the croaky, angry and heavy voice of the Chief Salamander again came on the air: ‘Hello, you people! Britain had better stop her nonsense! If you poison our water we will poison your air. We are only using your own weapons. We are no barbarians. We don’t want to make war on humans. We don’t want anything except our right to live. We are offering you peace. You will supply us with your manufactures and you will sell us your continents. We are willing to pay a fair price for them. We are offering you nothing but peace. We are offering you gold for your lands. Hello, I am addressing Great Britain. Notify me of your price for the southern part of Lincolnshire along the Wash. You have three days to consider it. For that period I am suspending all hostilities except the blockade.’
At that moment the underwater artillery barrage fell silent. So did the guns on shore. It was a strange, almost frightening, silence. The British government announced in Parliament that it did not intend to negotiate with the Newts. The population along the Wash and the Lynn Deep were warned of the probability of a major Newt attack, advised to evacuate their homes and move inland; however, the trains, cars and buses supplied for the purpose removed only the children and a few of the women. All the men stayed put; they simply could not believe that an Englishman could lose his land. A minute before the expiry of the three-day armistice the first shot rang out: this was a shot fired by a British gun of the Loyal North Lancashire Regiment to the accompaniment of its regimental march, ‘The Red Rose’. An instant later came a colossal explosion. The mouth of the river Nene sank all the way up to Wisbech and was flooded by the sea from the Wash. The famous ruins of Wisbech Abbey vanished under the waves, as did Holland Castle, the George and Dragon inn, together with other memorable buildings.
The next day the British government, in reply to a Commons question, stated that, from a military point of view, everything possible had been done to protect the British coast; however, further and much more extensive attacks on British territory could not be ruled out. Nevertheless, His Majesty’s Government could not negotiate with an enemy who waged war on civilians and women. (Hear, hear.) What was at stake was no longer the fate of Britain but that of the whole civilised world. Britain was ready to consider international guarantees to limit these terrible and barbarian attacks, which represented a menace to mankind itself.
A few weeks subsequently a world conference of states met in Vaduz.
It was held in Vaduz because there was no danger from the Newts in the High Alps and also because the majority of wealthy and socially important people from coastal regions had already settled there. The conference, as was universally conceded, got down ve
ry briskly to the resolution of all topical international issues. In the first place, all countries (except Switzerland, Abyssinia, Afghanistan, Bolivia and other landlocked states) refused as a matter of principle to recognise the Newts as a sovereign belligerent power, mainly because if they did so their own salamanders might regard themselves as members of such a Newt state. It could not be ruled out that a Newt state, if recognised, might attempt to exercise sovereignty over all waters and coasts inhabited by Newts. For that reason it was both legally and practically impossible to declare war on the salamanders or to bring any international pressure to bear on them; each state was entitled only to take action against its own Newts; it was, in fact, a purely domestic matter. For that reason there could be no question of any collective diplomatic or military action against the Newts. The only international aid that could be given to states attacked by the salamanders was the granting of foreign loans for their successful defence.
Britain thereupon submitted a proposal that all states should at least undertake not to supply weapons or explosives to the Newts. After mature deliberation the proposal was turned down, mainly because such an undertaking was already contained in the London Convention but also, secondly, because a country could not be prevented from supplying to its own Newts technical equipment ‘solely for their own requirements’ and arms for the defence of their own coasts; thirdly, because maritime countries were ‘naturally interested in maintaining good relations with the denizens of the sea’ and therefore considered it desirable ‘to refrain at this moment from any measures which the Newts might regard as discriminatory’. Nevertheless, all states were prepared to vouchsafe that they would supply weapons and high explosives also to the states attacked by the Newts.
In confidential discussion a Columbian proposal was adopted to the effect that at least unofficial talks should be initiated with the Newts. The Chief Salamander would be invited to send his plenipotentiaries to the conference. The British representative strongly objected to this, refusing to sit at the same table as the Newts; in the end, however, he agreed to absent himself by taking a trip to the Engadine for reasons of health. That night all maritime countries broadcast in their official codes an invitation to His Excellency the Chief Salamander to nominate his representatives and send them to Vaduz. His reply was a croaking ‘Yes; this time we’ll still come to you; next time your delegates will come into the water to see me.’ This was followed by a brief official announcement: ‘The authorised representatives of the Newts will arrive at Buchs by the Orient Express in the evening of the day after tomorrow.’
All preparations for the arrival of the Newts were made with the greatest possible haste; the most luxurious bathrooms were got ready in Vaduz and a special train brought in tank-wagons of sea-water for the delegates’ bath-tubs. On the platform at Buchs in the evening there would only be a so-called unofficial welcome; only the secretaries of the delegations would be present, together with the representatives of the local authorities and about two hundred journalists, photographers and film cameramen. At precisely 6.25 p.m. the Orient Express pulled into the station. From the saloon car three elegant tall gentlemen stepped out on to the red carpet, followed by a number of perfectly groomed secretaries, evidently men of the world, with heavy briefcases. ‘And where are the Newts?’ someone asked in a low voice. Two or three official personages advanced a little uncertainly towards the three gentlemen; but already the first of them said under his breath and in a low voice: ‘We are the Newt delegation. I am Professor Van Dott from the Hague. Maître Rosso Castelli, an attorney from Paris. Doctor Manoel Carvalho, an attorney from Lisbon.’ The gentlemen bowed and made their introductions. ‘So you aren’t Newts,’ the French secretary breathed. ‘Of course not,’ said Dr Rosso Castelli. ‘We are their lawyers. I am sorry - these gentlemen here are probably wanting to film the scene.’ So the smiling Newt delegation was eagerly filmed and photographed. The Legation secretaries present also showed their satisfaction. Very sensible and decent of those salamanders to send humans to represent them. It’s always easier to talk to humans. Most importantly, a certain amount of unpleasant social embarrassment is avoided.
That very night the first meeting was held with the Newt delegation. On the agenda was the question of how peace could most speedily be restored between the Newts and Great Britain. Professor Van Dott requested permission to speak. It was incontestable, he said, that the Newts had been attacked by Great Britain: the British gunboat Erebus had attacked the Newts’ transmitter boat on the open sea; the British Admiralty had violated business relations with the Newts by preventing the ship Amenhotep from unloading a cargo of explosives which had been ordered; thirdly, by its embargo on all deliveries the British government had initiated a blockade of the salamanders. The Newts had not been able to complain about these hostile actions either at the Hague, since the London Convention did not grant to the Newts the right to lodge complaints, or in Geneva, since they were not members of the League of Nations. Hence they had no alternative but to resort to self-defence. Nevertheless, the Chief Salamander was willing to suspend all hostilities, but only on these conditions: (1) Great Britain will apologise to the Newts for the above-mentioned wrongs; (2) she will revoke all bans on deliveries to the Newts; (3) as reparation she will cede to the salamanders, without compensation, the low-lying river lands of the Punjab, where the Newts could establish new coasts and marine bays. - The chairman of the conference thereupon announced that he would report these conditions to his esteemed colleague, the representative of Great Britain, who happened to be absent at that moment; he could not, however, disguise his fear that these terms would scarcely be found acceptable. Nevertheless, it seemed reasonable to hope that they could be seen as a basis for further discussions.
The next item on the agenda was a complaint by France in the matter of the Senegambian coast which the Newts had blown up, thereby interfering with French colonial rule. The famous Paris attorney Dr Julien Rosso Castelli, representing the Newts, asked for the floor. ‘Prove it,’ he said. The world’s greatest experts in the field of seismography had given it as their opinion that the earthquake in Senegambia had been of volcanic origin and associated with the ancient volcanic activity of the Pico volcano on Fogo Island. ‘Here,’ exclaimed Dr Rosso C astelli, bringing his palm down with a smack on his file, ‘is their expert scientific opinion. If you possess proof that the Senegambian earthquake was due to my clients’ activities, please gentlemen, I am waiting to see it.’
The Belgian delegate, Creux: ‘Your Chief Salamander himself announced that the Newts had done it!’
Professor Van Dott: ‘His statement was unofficial.’
Maître Rosso Castelli: ‘We are instructed to deny his statement just referred to. I demand that the technical experts be heard on whether it is possible to create artificially a sixty-seven kilometre rift in the earth’s crust. I suggest that they should give us a practical demonstration on the same scale. In the absence of any such proof, gentlemen, we shall speak of volcanic activity. Nevertheless, the Chief Salamander is willing to purchase from the French government the marine inlet which has formed in the Senegambian rift and which is suitable for the establishment of a Newt colony. We are authorised to agree a price with the French government.’
Minister Deval, the French delegate: ‘If we are to view this as compensation for the damage caused, we might talk about it.’
Maître Rosso Castelli. ‘Very well. The Newt government, however, demands that the purchasing contract include also the Landes region from the Gironde estuary to Bayonne, an area of 6,720 square kilometres. In other words, the Newt government is willing to purchase from France this part of her southern French soil.’
Minister Deval (a native of Bayonne and Deputy for Bayonne): ‘So that your Newts can turn a piece of France into the sea-bed? Never! Never!’
Dr Rosso Castelli: ‘France will come to regret those words, sir. Today we were still offering a purchasing price.’
The meeting was thereu
pon suspended.
At the next sitting the subject under discussion was a major international package offered to the Newts: instead of their unacceptable destruction of old, densely populated continents they should construct new coasts and islands for themselves; in that event ample credits would be offered to them, and the new continents and islands would be recognised as their independent and sovereign state territory.
Dr Manoel Carvalho, the great Lisbon lawyer, expressed his thanks for this offer which he would convey to the Newt government. But any child would understand that the construction of new continents was far more laborious and costly than demolishing existing land. His clients needed new coasts and bays within the shortest possible time; to them this was a matter of life and death. Mankind would be wise to accept the generous offer of the Chief Salamander who, at this moment, was still willing to purchase the world from mankind rather than seize it by force. His clients had discovered a process for extracting the gold contained in sea-water; in consequence they had available to them virtually unlimited financial means; they were in a position to offer a good, indeed an excellent, price for the human world. You may be sure, he continued, that in the course of time the value of the world will decline, especially if, as might be expected, further volcanic or tectonic disasters were to occur, far more extensive than the ones we have so far witnessed; as a result of them, moreover, the surface of the continents was being diminished. Today the world may still be sold with its full present dimensions; once only the ruins of mountains remain above the water’s surface, no one is going to give you a brass farthing for it! ‘True, I stand here as the representative and legal adviser of the Newts,’ Dr Carvalho exclaimed, ‘and I must protect their interests: but I am a man like you, gentlemen, and the good of the human race is as close to my heart as it is to yours. That is why I advise you, nay, implore you: sell your continents while there is time! You may sell them in their entirety or in lots of individual countries. The Chief Salamander, whose magnanimous and modern thinking is by now universally known, undertakes that in all future necessary alterations to the earth’s surface he will, as far as possible, spare human life; flooding will be conducted in easy stages and in such a way that no panic or unnecessary catastrophes are created. We are empowered to embark on negotiations, either with this revered world conference as a whole or with individual countries. The presence of such outstanding lawyers as Professor Van Dott or Maître Julien Rosso Castelli should be a guarantee to you that, alongside the just interests of our clients, the Newts, we shall, hand in hand with you, defend what is most dear to all of us: human culture and the good of mankind as a whole.’