The atmosphere was electric. Even Park, with all his acumen, had been unable to keep up with events. The risks were huge, whichever way he threw his insurgents' votes.
He kept them shut up in a committee-room with him until the last possible minute. He did not yet know himself whether he would order them to vote for or against the amendment.
The clock on the wall ticked around.
A boy came in with a message for Park. It said, in effect, that the Sons of the Vikings had received a report that the amendment had already been passed; had mobilized and seized the town of Olafsburg.
Who had sent that mistaken message and why, there was no way of finding out. But it was too late for anybody to back down. Park looked up and said, very seriously: "We're voting for the Scoglund Amendment." That was all; with his well-trained cogs no more was necessary.
The bell rang; they filed out. Park took his seat in the visitors' gallery. He said nothing but thought furiously as the session of the Althing was opened with the usual formalities. The chairman and the speaker and the chaplain took an interminable time about their business, as if afraid to come to grips with the fearful reality awaiting their attention.
When the first motions came up, a dead silence fell as Park's men got up and walked over to the Rubies' side of the house. Then the Rubies let out a yell of triumph. There was no more need of stalling or delicate angling for marginal votes. Motion after motion went through with a roar. Out went the Diamond chairman and speaker, and in went Rubies in their place.
In an hour the debate had been shut off, despite howls from Diamonds and their sympathizers about "gag law" and "high-handed procedure."
The amendment came up for its first vote. It fell short of the two-thirds required by eleven votes.
Park scribbled a note and had it delivered to the speaker. The speaker handed it to the chairman. Park watched the little white note drift around the Ruby side of the house. Then the Ruby leader got up and solemnly moved the suspension of thingmen Adam son, Arduser, Beurwulf, Dahl, Fessenden, Gilpatrick, Holmquist ... all the thingmen from the seceding area.
Most of those named didn't wait; they rose and filed out, presumably to catch airwains for their home provinces.
The amendment passed on the second vote.
Park looked up the Ruby leader after the Althing adjourned. He said: "I hear Kedrick still won't order mobilization. Talks about 'Letting the erring brethren go in peace.' What's your party line on the matter?"
The Ruby leader, a thin cool man, blew smoke through his nose. "We're going to fight. If Kedrick won't go along, there are ways. The same applies to you, Thane Park."
Park suddenly realized that events had put him in a suspect position. If he didn't want himself and his cogs to be damned as copperheads, or the Vinland equivalent, he'd have to outshout the Rubies for unity, down with the rebels, etcetera.
Well, he might as well do a good job of it.
That afternoon the guards at the Psychophysical Institute were astonished to have their sanctuary invaded by a squad of uniformed knicks with the notorious Allister Park at their head flourishing a search-warrant.
The charge was violation of the fire-ordnances—in a building made almost entirely of tile, glass, and reinforced concrete.
"But, but, but!" stuttered Dr. Edwy Borup. Park merely whisked out another warrant, this time for the arrest of Joseph Noggle.
"But, but, you can't stop one of my patients! It's— uh—illegal! I'll call Mayor Greenfield!"
"Go ahead," grinned Park. "But don't be surprised if you get a busy signal." He had taken the precaution of seeing that all the lines to the mayor's office would be occupied at this time.
"Hello, Noggle," said Park.
"Haw. Who are you? I think I've met you—let me see—"
Park produced an air pistol. "I'm Allister Park. You'll figure out where you met me sopn enough, but you won't talk about it. I'm glad to see my figuring came out right. Can you start a man's wheel today? Now?"
"I suppose I could. Oh, I know who you are now—"
"Nay comments, I said. You're coming along, brother, and doing just as you're told."
The next step was when Park walked arm in arm with Noggle into the imposing executive building. Park's standing as a powerful boss saw him through the guards and flunkeys that guarded the Bretwald's office on the top floor.
The Bretwald looked up from his desk. "Oh, haw, Thane Park. If you're going to nag me about that mobilization order, you're wasting your time. Who's— eeee! Where am I? What's happened to me? Help! Help!"
In bounded the guards, guns ready. Park faced them sadly. "Our respected Bretwald seems to have had a mental seizure," he said.
The guards covered the two visitors arid asked Kedrick what was the matter. All they could get out of Kedrick was: "Help, Get away from me! Let me out! I don't know who you're talking about. My name's not Kedrick, it's O'Shaughnessy!"
They took him away. The guards kept Park and Noggle until a message from the acting Bretwald said to let them go.
"By the brazen gates of Hell!" cried Park. "Is that all?"
"Yep," said the new Secretary of War. "Douglas was a Brahtz man; hence he saw to it that the army was made as harmless as possible before he skipped out."
Park laughed grimly. "The Secretary of War sabotages—"
"He does what?"
"Never mind. He raises hell with, if you want a more familiar expression. Raises hell with the army for the benefit of his party, with the Dakotians about to come whooping in. I suppose it oughtn't to surprise me, though. How many can we raise?"
"About twenty thousand in the burgish area, but we can arm only half of them rickly. Most of our quick-fire pipes and warwains have been hurt so it'll take a month to fix them."
"How about a force of Skrellings?"
The Secretary shrugged. "We can raise 'em, but we can't arm them."
"Go ahead and raise 'em anyway."
"All right, if you say so. But hadn't you better have a rank? It would look better."
"All right. You make me your assistant."
"Don't you want a commission?"
"Not on your life! Your generals would go on strike, and even if they didn't I'd be subject to military law."
The army was not an impressive one, even when its various contingents had all collected at what would have been Pittsburgh if its name hadn't been the lovely one of Guggenvik. The regulars were few and unimpressive; the militia were more numerous but even less prepossessing; the Skrelling levy was the most unmilitary of all. They stood around with silly grins on their flat brown faces, and chattered and scratched. Park thought disgustedly, so these are the descendants of the noble red man and the heroic Viking! Fifty years of peace had been a blessing to Vinland, but not an altogether unmitigated one.
The transport consisted of a vast fleet of private folk-wains and goodwains (busses and trucks to you). It had been possible to put only six warwains in the field. These were a kind of steam-driven armored car carrying a compressor and a couple of pneumatic machine-guns. There was one portable liquid-air plant for charging shells and air-bombs.
The backwardness of Vinland chemistry compared to its physics caused a curious situation. The only practical military explosives were a rather low-grade black powder, and a carbon-liquid-oxygen mixture. Since the former was less satisfactory as a propellant, considering smoke, flash, and barrel-fouling, than compressed air, and was less effective as a detonant than the liquid air explosive; its military use was largely confined to land mines. Liquid oxygen, however, while as powerful as trinitrotoluol, had to be manufactured on the spot, as there was no way of preventing its evaporation. Hence it was a very awkward thing to use in mobile warfare.