“A living death,” said Chiun. “You wish to put this emperor out of his misery?”
“No. They are happy when they forget. I guess pain is a learned thing.”
“Pain and happiness are both illusions, O great Emperor Smith,” said Chiun. Whites liked that sort of thing nowadays. It made them feel as though they were getting something wise.
* * *
Even Rubin had to admit that Beatrice's plan was brilliant and the only way out.
“He wanted war, he's got war. Our only problem is we weren't fighting a war.”
“You're right. You're right. When you are right, you are right,” said Rubin. He wheezed under the weight of the bags at Nassau airport. They had gotten out of America easily. They simply used two phony passports and carried the money on board.
Just before their bags went through the X-ray check he coated the money with a fiberglass that made it all look like loose sweaters.
But at Nassau they had to open their bags entering the Bahamas. The airport was hot, with signs for rum and entertainment on the walls. The light was Caribbean bright, like rhinestones under fluorescence, a bit too bright to feel natural for Americans.
The customs inspector saw the fiberglass coating and politely inquired what it was. He had to be on the lookout for anyone bringing in narcotics or weapons.
Rubin explained it was a gift for his good friends on the island, a new sort of material to make building houses easier.
“A technology from outer space,” said Rubin.
“Lay off that planet-Alarkin stuff or we'll both be in the slammer,” said Beatrice. She asked the customs inspector where they could buy suntan lotion and because he did such a good job with directions, gave him ten crisp hundred-dollar bills.
“You are welcome with your invention from outer space to the Bahamas,” said the inspector.
But Beatrice and Rubin did not stay on Nassau. They took a small charter aircraft to the island of Eleuthera, a long strip of coral and sand dotted by occasional beaches and many small villages with no more than two stores apiece. There could not be more than ten thousand people on the island, and a closer guess would have put it at three thousand.
“Too many for the plan,” said Beatrice. “Too big. The people can make trouble.”
Rubin looked over the map. He pointed to an even smaller island ten minutes by boat from Eleuthera. It was called Harbor Island, and it was famous for two miles of pink beaches and a “decency of people rare anywhere in the world.”
“Good,” said Beatrice. “We can push them around.”
“Or buy them,” said Rubin.
“Why buy what you can bully?” said Beatrice.
“It's easier on my nerves,” said Rubin.
“Try another Percodan.”
“I'm running low.”
At Harbor Island the first part of the plan went into effect immediately. They purchased all the available hotel rooms. Then the call went out by phone, along the squeaky radiophone system, to all the Warriors of Zor.
“We are safe. We are here. Join us.”
And the call went out to all the franchises.
“Send us Powies. The moment of truth is at hand. Profits about to go through the roof. We have all been in the wrong business. About to make you all rich beyond your wildest dreams.”
Of course the reply was: what level Powies did the Dolomos want from their franchises? No one was going to give up the big spenders.
“I don't want money. I want believers. We'll pay the way down. Believers.”
“Believers mean money,” was the general answer.
“Then poor believers,” said Rubin.
“You mean the kids, the ones who want the future and try to sell Poweressence on the street corners?”
“Yes. Them. Anyone. We are ready to strike back. Beatrice says we're not taking it anymore.”
“That's why you had to leave the country in the first place, isn't it?” asked one of the franchise owners.
“We're going to have a place very shortly that we'll never have to leave. Have you ever wondered why Presidents don't go to jail and citizens do?”
“No,” said the franchise owner, who was more interested in a “Be Free from Eyeglasses” promotion Rubin had mentioned as an aside.
“Then,” said Rubin, “you will be bound by your pettiness forever. Do you want to play with sight enhancers all your life?”
“Rubin, if we can sell 'see without glasses' we can devastate the eyeglass market and put contacts out of business forever. Forever. Millions. I'm talking millions.
How many people are embarrassed to wear eyeglasses? We will own the geriatric market.”
“I don't know if it will work,” said Rubin.
“Doesn't matter. We just need people to believe it will work. Lots of diets don't work, Rubin, but people still belong to clubs and buy books.”
“Small change,” said Rubin. “You don't know how big we're going to be. As Beatrice says, we're not taking it anymore.”
Within two days the Warriors of Zor had arrived at Harbor Island, and Rubin, with his suitcases of cash, was able to put them all in a fine little resort that straddled the island in the middle, each with small bungalow cottages and central dining room.
“It's like a vacation,” said one man who sold insurance. To him Rubin entrusted the mission to the banking commission of the Bahamas.
“I want to open a bank,” said Rubin. He gave the man twelve inches of hundred-dollar bills to establish the proper credentials. Rubin Dolomo had his bank before sunset. But there were other things he was doing.
The Warriors of Zor would lead other Powies. With his own bank he could receive or give loans. The first thing he did was put the paper into it, and through a tangle of financial maneuvering got himself credit around the world.
The native population being open, honest, and friendly, he immediately established himself as ruler, with Beatrice as queen. Those who went along received a large, friendly stipend. Those who did not were threatened successfully.
Within three days of landing, the Dolomos had turned Harbor Island into their own preserve and announced independence from the Bahamas.
The Prime Minister of the Bahamas was quite rightly infuriated. Since the Bahamians had the good sense to avoid enemies and even the better luck to have an ocean between them and any neighbor, they had never needed an army. They sent their police force, a finely trained, disciplined, and polite constabulary, still retaining many British officers as well as equally competent natives, to subdue the rebellion.
The first wave got to the beach and were met with smiling, friendly people wearing rubber gloves and carrying cotton swabs. The first wave never reported back. The second wave went in with orders to let no one near. But by this time the Powies had the guns of the first waves. There was a slaughter on the beach.
And here Rubin showed his true skills. Instead of hunkering down, Rubin prepared an announcement for his new Secretary of State, a pleasant man who ran a souvenir shop featuring tall cups with bug eyes that stared back at the drinker.
“We are the Revolutionary People's Army of Harbor Island seeking to redress age-old oppression by Nassau, Eleuthera, and Great Britain, which made all these islands colonies. Our struggle will not stop until total freedom, total liberty, and total independence are achieved.”
Since Rubin had carefully kept himself and Beatrice out of sight and since it seemed as though these were truly natives conducting the rebellion, fourteen Third World countries offered them recognition immediately, and Russia sent a trade delegation to give them arms.
Just off the pink beach Rubin enlarged a crude factory into an underground bunker that could produce the memory formula. The Warriors of Zor trained the Powies who made it. Men of the Bahamian constabulary were allowed to play in the sand. No more tourists were allowed.