Страница 38 из 104
The one who'd impressed him most on the Riverworld was a man who, on Earth, would have been thought a complete nonentity and failure by almost anybody. That was Jacques Gillot, La Viro, La Fondinto.
During his Terrestrial existence, however, the person who'd awed him the most, in fact, overpowered him, enslaved him by force of personality alone, had been Adolf Hitler. Only once had he stood up to his Fuhrer during the many times he'd known the Fuhrer was wrong, and then he'd quickly backed down. Now, in the retrospect of many years on the Riverworld and the knowledge he'd gained as a Second Chancer, he had no respect at all for the madman. Nor did he have any respect for the Goring of that time. Indeed, he loathed him.
But, he wasn't so full of self-hatred that he considered himself past salvation. To think thus was to put himself into a special class, to be criminally proud, to be full of hubris, to possess a peculiar form of self-righteousness.
However, there was also the danger of having all these prides because you didn't have them. To be proud because you were humble.
This was a Christian sin, though also counted as such in some other religions. La Viro, who'd been a stoutly devout Catholic all his Terrestrial life, had never even heard of such a sin then. His priest had never mentioned it during his long sleep-inducing sermons. Gillot had conceived of this old but little-publicized sin himself after he'd come to this planet.
Though Goring recognized before the end of the war that Hitler was crazy, he'd still remained loyal to him. Loyalty was one of Goring's virtues, though in him it was so resistant to reason that it became a fault. Unlike most of the others at the Nuremberg trial, Goring had refused to renounce and denounce his chief.
Now, he wished he'd had the courage to stand up to his leader even though it might have meant his downfall much earlier than it occurred and perhaps even his death. If only he could do it all over...
But as La Viro had told him, "You are doing it all over again now, every day. The circumstances differ, that's all."
The third person who'd made the greatest impression on him was Richard Francis Burton. Goring didn't doubt that Burton, if he'd been in Goring's place, would not have hesitated in saying to Hitler, "No!" or "You are wrong!" How then, had Burton managed to keep from being thrown off the Rex in all these years? King John was a tyrant, arrogant, intolerant of those who argued with him.
Had John changed? Had Burton also changed? And then the changes had been enough so that each man could get along with the other?
John said, "Over there, playing draw poker, are the seven pilots of my air force. Come, I'll introduce you."
Goring was startled when Werner Voss stood up to shake hands with him. He had met him once, but Voss obviously didn't recognize him.
Goring was a fine pilot, but he would readily admit that he could never equal Voss. Voss had scored his first victories, two Allied planes, in November 1916. On September 23, 1917, shortly after his twentieth birthday, Voss was shot down after a lone-wolf battle against seven of Britain's best fighter pilots. In less than a year, during which he'd flown against the enemy, he'd scored forty-eight kills, enough to make him the fourth-ranking ace of the Imperial German Air Service. And in that short time he'd been removed several times from the front for administrative or other duties. It was not a coincidence that this happened when he was getting close to the score of Manfred von Richthofen. The baron had great influence, nor was Voss the only one whom von Richthofen had managed to withdraw from action for a while. Karl Schaefer and Karl Allmenroder, hotshot pilots, had been similarly manipulated.
Voss was a first lieutenant of the air force, the second-ranker, John explained. The captain was Kenji Okabe, one of Japan's great aces. The gri
The other aviators, the two fighter-plane replacement pilots, the pilots of the torpedo bomber and of the helicopter, were unknown to Goring.
Goring would have loved to have talked with Voss about the old days of World War I. Sighing, he followed John up a staircase to the C or hurricane deck. At the end of the tour, they went back to the grand salon for iced drinks. Goring took only one drink. John, he noted, downed two in a short time. His face got red, but his speech remained unslurred. He asked Goring many questions about La Viro. Goring answered truthfully. What was there to hide?
Could the bishop give John any indication about whether or not La Viro would give permission for the boat to put in for extended repairs?
"I can't speak for La Viro," Goring said. "But I believe that he'll say yes. After all, you are potential converts to the Church."
King John gri
Goring said, "Do you have any idea how close Clemens is to you?"
"I'd estimate that it will be only a few days behind," John said, "after we get our motor rewinding done. We were also delayed for a long time because of the damage done by the raiders."
"Then that means... ?"
Goring did not like to put his thought into words.
John gri
It was evident to Goring that John meant to use this wide and long lake for his stand. It would give him plenty of room for maneuvering. He didn't think it would be wise to mention this at this time.
John began cursing out Clemens as a lying, traitorous, bloodthirsty, rapacious monster. He was a hellbent criminal, and John was his i
Goring wasn't fooled. Having known both Clemens and John, he was sure that John was the liar, the traitor, and the rapacious. He wondered how those who'd been in on the hijacking had managed to keep the truth from those who joined the crew afterward.
Goring said, "Your Majesty, it's been a very long, arduous, and dangerous voyage. Your casualty rate must have been high. How many of your original crew are left?"
John narrowed his eyes. "That's a strange question. Why do you ask it?"
Goring shrugged and said, "It's not important. It's just that I was curious. There are so many savage peoples on The River, and I'm sure that many have tried to take the boat away from you. After all, it..."
"Is a treasure worth far more than its weight in diamonds?" John said, smiling. "Yes. It is. By God's backside, I could tell you tales of the mighty battles we've had to keep the Rex from falling into enemy hands. The truth is that, of the fifty who left Parolando, only two are still on the boat. Myself and Augustus Strubewell."
Which might mean, Goring thought, that John had managed that no loosemouth would tell new recruits the truth. A push in the dark of a rainstorm, a splash no one could hear. A quarrel provoked by John or Strubewell and the discharge of the crewman for incompetence or insubordination. There were many ways to kill and many excuses for throwing a man or woman off the boat. And accident and warfare and desertion would take care of the others.