ly.
"I've been conferring with various other field workers, both Reunited
Nations and otherwise. The situation calls for a real El Hassan. If we
don't provide him, someone else will. I propose to take over the
position."

Sven Zetterberg's face was suddenly cold. "And why, Dr. Crawford, do
you think you are more qualified than others?"

The American Negro could hardly fail to note the other's disapproval.
He said evenly, but definitely, "Through experience. Through
education. Through ... through having the dream, Dr. Zetterberg."

"The Reunited Nations cannot support such a project, Dr. Crawford. I
absolutely forbid you to consider it."

"Forbid me?"

* * * * *

It was as though a strange something entered the atmosphere of the
room, almost as though a new _presence_ was there. And almost, it
seemed to Sven Zetterberg, that the already tall, solidly built man
across from him grew physically as his voice seemed to swell, to reach
out, to dominate. There was a new, and all but unbelievable Homer
Crawford here.

The Swedish official regathered his forces. This was ridiculous. He
said again, "I forbid you to...." the sentence dribbled away under the
cold disdain in the air now.

Homer Crawford said flatly, "You don't seem to understand, Zetterberg.
The Reunited Nations has no control over El Hassan. Homer Crawford, as
of this meeting, has resigned his post with the African Development
Project. And El Hassan has begun his task of uniting all North
Africa."

Sven Zetterberg, shaken by this new and unsuspected force the other
seemed to be able to bring to his command, fought back. "It will be
simple to discredit you, to let it be known that you are no more than
an ambitious American out to seize power illegally."

Crawford's scorn held an element of amusement. "Try it. I suspect your
attempts to discredit El Hassan will prove unsuccessful. He has
already been rumored to be everything from an Ethiopian to the Second
Coming of the Messiah. Your attempt to brand him an American
adventurer will be swallowed up in the flood of other rumor."

The Swede was still shaken by the strange manner in which his once
subordinate had suddenly dominated him. Sven Zetterberg was not a man
to be dominated, to be made unsure.

Time folded back on itself and for a moment he was again a lad and on
vacation with his father in Bavaria. They were having lunch in the
famed Hofbrauehaus, largest of the Mun