Harry Turtledove (Editor): Alternate Generals II

"Not enough water to sink her, but that hull won't float again." Butler took in a long line of American civilians waiting for passage to the Matoika. Most were minor officials of the mandate government, though he recognized a cluster of American oilmen and their families. An American destroyer was tied to the seawall; the ship's high, knife-edged bow swept back a quarter of the destroyer's length before dropping sharply to a low main deck running aft. "How do we stand, Major?"

"General Pershing ordered withdrawal from Stamboul to the bridgeheads last night. No sign of the Turkish army, sir. Our lines swing north from the Horn and around Galata to the Bosporus north of the Dolmabahce Palace."

"We're still protecting the sultan, then."

"Not really, sir. He's gone back to the Topkapi."

"Good. The sultans haven't lived in Stamboul for fifty years. What's the old fool up to?"

"Praying before the Relics of the Prophet, or something."

"Where's Pershing?"

"The Pera Palas."

Refusing to yield to his fatigue, John Pershing stood beside his desk as Albert Fall stormed into the office, followed by an Army lieutenant.

"General Pershing, this man damned well ordered me into your presence," Fall said, his Western drawl thickening as his voice rose to a shout.

"My apologies for the offense, Governor Fall. I sent the lieutenant to ensure your safety. And your arrival." Pershing turned to a man standing near a window overlooking the imperial city. "Governor, this is Mister Palmer of the Department of State. He arrived this morning on the destroyer Fanning ."

"I saw it dock. I'm glad the Navy sent us another ship to help whip the Turks."

"Not quite." Palmer handed an envelope to Fall. "As you will see, Governor, the State Department and the Senate are investigating the oil concessions the sultan assigned to American firms. There's strong evidence you accepted a rather large bribe, Mister Fall."

"Bunk."

"Perhaps, but the Secretary of State finds the charges substantial enough to order you back to Washington. You are suspended from your office."

"You don't have the authority!" Fall ripped open the envelope and stood staring at the official stationery, his mouth opening and closing silently.

"General Pershing." Palmer handed a second envelope to Pershing. "The secretary has appointed you interim governor general, until a new civilian governor is named or until Governor Fall returns to his post. Mister Fall, the Fanning will have refueled by noon, at which time we steam for America. With your permission, General Pershing, I'd like your lieutenant to help me pack Mister Fall's official papers."

"Have a safe voyage, gentlemen." Pershing waited till the door closed before calling for his orderly. "Sergeant Lanckton, they should give Charlie Dawes the Nobel Prize for engineering that bit of work. Maybe make him vice president. Hell, make him president."

Butler, the Thompson still slung over his shoulder, stepped aside as Fall and his escort left Pershing's office. He frowned, then returned a salute from the general's orderly. "Is the general free?"

"Yes, sir. Governor Pershing said to show you right in, General," Lanckton said.

Butler heard the change of title, and smiled. "Where's Fall?"

Lanckton grinned. "Mister Fall is recalled."

Butler entered Pershing's office, and saluted. "Congratulations, Governor."

"Frank stole the pleasure of telling you, I see," Pershing said, then listened to Butler's report of his mission. "Well done. We are a little stronger with that submarine dead. As I'm sure you saw, we have withdrawn from Stamboul."

"Yes, sir."

"A night ago, I met with Mustafa Kemal."

Butler nearly gasped in his surprise. "Sir!"

"The Ghazi realizes that we only came to help the Turkish people until they were ready to assume the burden of self-government." Glancing at a wall map showing the encircling Turkish forces, Pershing added, smiling, "We agreed that they are ready for that burden."

"And the politics at home?"

"Secretary Hughes wants us out of Turkey, and with the help your father's given in Congress, Hughes brought along his cabinet colleagues at the War and Navy Departments. Only Fall delayed matters, and he is now gone. The cable arrived this morning with President Harding's orders to withdraw from Turkey, if we can do so without fighting the Nationalist Army and stirring up a full war."

"I'm gone two days, and the world changes," Smedley said, smiling. "The Princess Matoika can't carry all the Americans in the city."

"The charities and missionaries are staying, as are most of the smaller businessmen," Pershing said. "The Henderson brought your marines and can carry them home. I've commandeered the two American merchantmen in port for the Army."

"When do we leave?"

"The Matoika steams in the morning. We start loading troops as soon as she clears the Golden Horn."

"I hear the sultan's at the Topkapi?"

"He's an old man seeing the end of a dynasty that's ruled this city for five hundred years," Pershing said. "I don't know what he'll do."

"Will the Nationalist Army nip our heels when we pull out?"

"Mustafa Kemal Pasha gave his word that his army will not attack, and I believe him. He wants good relations with America."

"But he doesn't control Stamboul."

"Not until his forces enter the city, and he won't do that till we leave."

"We can blow the bridges, General. The walk around the Golden Horn is too far for a mob. Both freighters are in the war harbor. I'd like to move them past the bridges to the Bosporus seawall before we load."

"One moves tonight," Pershing said. "Unfortunately, the second is repairing hull plates damaged when it hit a piling. It'll be ready to steam on time, but only if we load her in place. We can't blow the bridges till the freighter is clear."

Butler stalked the end of the Galata Bridge, his boots thudding with each step. For the first time since he'd been in Constantinople, the bridge was empty, no longer packed by the peoples of Europe and Asia who normally streamed between Stamboul and Galata. The restaurants and shops built under the bridge were empty. The caiques and other boats usually tied to the bridge had been forced away, though many hovered on the flanks, ready to swoop toward the marines, as were the flocks of gulls circling the docks.

Nearly a hundred of Butler's men crouched behind a makeshift barricade of cargo bales. Most held bolt-action Springfield rifles. Every fifth man pointed a Thompson at the crowd milling across the plaza formed by a wide intersection. Three teams with Browning Automatic Rifles used their BARs to stiffen the defenses. East of the Galata Bridge, another marine unit held the Upper Bridge across the Horn.

The mob of several thousand Turks stirred, occasionally pushing toward the marine line. Many in the mob held rifles. At the Galata end of the wide bridge, two belt-fed Browning machine guns waited to sweep death into the mob if the marines retreated.

"General Butler, a wog's coming."

Butler watched a Turk in a dark suit and fez walk slowly toward the marines. He held a white flag high over his head. "Efendim!"

Butler recognized the man as an advisor to the sultan and waved him through the marine line. "Halim Pasha, may I order a car for you?"

"No, Butler Efendi, I come with a letter for you, or General Pershing. From the sultan."

Smedley opened the letter, written in English on stationery carrying the curling Arabic script of the sultan's seal:

Sir, Considering my life in danger in Istanbul, I take refuge with the American Government and request my transfer as soon as possible from Istanbul to another place.