emote, ever mysterious. He can't afford to have real
intimates. Napoleon, Hitler, Stalin. None of them had a real friend to
their name. The nearest to friends that Adolph the Aryan ever had, his
old comrades of the beerhall days, such as Rhoem, he butchered in the
blood purge. And Stalin? He managed to do away with every Old
Bolshevik he knew in the days before the Party came to power."

Cliff was staring at him. "Hey," he said. "The one other thing one of
these mystical leader types needs is a belief in his own destiny. To
the point of clobbering all his intimates if he thinks they stand in
his way."

Homer broke into a sudden short laugh. "Any qualms, Cliff?"

Cliff growled, "I don't know. This dream of yours is growing. Where it
might end--I don't know."

As they were talking the cries of _Ul-Ul-Ul-Allah Akbar!_ had broken
out again.

"Heavens to Betsy," Isobel said. "Another contingent of camelmen?"

* * * * *

But this time the newcomers were three in number and rode in air
cushion hover-lorries, the twins of that used by Homer Crawford.

Rex Donaldson brought them up to the tent, saying, "I didn't think you
chaps were quite so close."

Homer, Cliff and Isobel faced the new recruits. The three were dressed
in khaki bushshirts, shorts and heavy walking shoes--British style.
Two were so obviously relatives that they could have been twins except
for an age discrepancy of two or three years. They were smaller in
stature than the Americans present, almost chunky, but their faces
held education and cultivation. The third was slight of build, almost
as wiry as Rex Donaldson, and seemed ever at ease.

The small, bent Bahaman made introductions. "Gentlemen, let me present
El Hassan--Homer Crawford to you--formerly of the Reunited Nations
African Development Project, formerly of the United States of the
Americas." His face twisted in his sour grimace of a grin. "Now
running for the office of tyrant of North Africa."

"And these are two of his original and most trusted adherents, Isobel
Cunningham and Cliff Jackson." Donaldson turned to the newcomers.
"John and James Peters--that's Jack and Jimmy, of course--recently
colleagues of mine with the African Department of the Commonwealth,
working largely in the Nigeria area."

Homer shook hands, grinning. "You're a long way from home."

"Farther than that," the one labeled Jack said without a smile
changing the seriousness of his face