Sloan Wilson - Ice Brothers

“Official business, skipper?” Krater asked and Stevens grinned.

“Partly,” Paul said.

“Don’t do nothing I wouldn’t do,” Krater said as they pulled away in the boat.

Turning, Paul was glad to see smoke pluming up from the Charlie Noble of the little ketch on the ways. Brit heard him coming up the ladder and met him on the deck. “The Eskimos say they saw a little ski plane this morning,” she said. “I tried to get somebody in a kayak to go tell you, but they’re all off seal hunting.”

“I saw it. It’s no immediate danger. Brit, I have something important to talk to you about.”

When they went below he sat on a bunk after placing his cumbersome pistol and belt on the table.

“I’m out of coffee, but I can give you tea or hot chocolate,” she said.

“Later please. Brit, how do I go about organizing the biggest possible work force from the Eskimos? Do I offer to pay them? Do I preach patriotism?”

“What do you want them to do?”

“Build a temporary base near Supportup and take guns and men to it. If I can find some Eskies who want to help us fight, so much the better.”

“Swan won’t let the Eskimos have anything to do with you. He doesn’t want to get them involved in the war at all. He’s mad as hell about Peomeenie.”

“What can he do about it?”

“He’ll just tell the Eskimos not to talk to you at all. They’ll do what he says. They respect him.”

“Can we talk him out of that?”

“Paul, Swan’s whole life has been a love affair with the Eskimos. He came out here when he was twenty-one years old to bring them religion, and has never been home once since. They’re his children; a few of them literally. He doesn’t really give a damn about anyone else.”

“So he’ll fight me when I try to get their help.”

“If he thought you were going to get them shot up, I think he’d kill you.”

“Well, that makes it clear enough. I’ll have to lock him up.”

“Paul, he’s an old man! He’s practically a saint to the Eskimos. What are you saying?”

“I’ll put him with the other prisoners out on the island and tell the Eskies the Krauts got him. Maybe that will make them fight for me—”

“Paul, what kind of a mind have you got?”

“A German mind. It’s simple. If I’m going to save my own men, I have to get as much help as I can from the Eskies. Anyone who tries to stop me is my enemy. Any lies I have to tell to get the help I need to save the lives of my men won’t bother me.”

“And you don’t worry about saving the lives of the Eskies?”

“I worry about them just as much but no more than I worry about my own life. I thought you knew something about war, Brit.”

“I’m learning more all the time. Can’t you put the old man under guard in his own house? You’ll kill him if you put him out there in those huts with all those Germans.”

“I can’t afford enough guards to stand duty in different places. As you say, Swanson is old. I’d rather have him die than someone who’s hardly had a chance to live at all.”

“Well, you talk cold reason,” Brit said. “I can’t deny that.” Her voice was cold.

She was standing near the table looking down at the pistol. “Men with guns all sound about the same,” she said.

“I thought you were on my side.”

“Oh, I am. I’m on your side and I hope you’re on my side. I promise never to fight you. It’s rather nice to have the man with the gun on my side for a change.”

“Good. I’ll take Swanson out to the island and leave him with the other prisoners at two this afternoon when my boat comes to get me.”

“Then I better go tell him. He’ll have to get ready.”

“We’ll tell him nothing in advance. I don’t want him turning the Eskimos against me.”

“You’ll just grab him and march him to your boat at gunpoint?”

“Not so the Eskimos can see me. You can bring him down to the boat in friendly fashion.”

“I won’t do it. You’re as bad as the bloody Germans.”

“There’s only one big difference between me and your bloody Germans. They started this war and I’m doing my bit to help finish it with as little loss of blood as possible.”

“So you want me to trick an old man who saved my life once into letting you take him prisoner without his people knowing.”

“Sorry, but I can’t afford to be sentimental. I have two dead men lying up there by your church. That’s enough for me.”

“What will you do if I don’t help you?”

“I wouldn’t like it, but I’d have to put you out there with the other prisoners. If I post guards all over the place, I’ll have no one to run my ship—”

“Is this a test for me, making me betray Swan? Are you doing this because I slept with Swan? Are you punishing him or trying to see if I still love him?”

“You can’t understand that I don’t give a damn about anything right now except keeping as many of my men alive as I can while we’re killing Germans.”

“I’m beginning to understand.”

“Brit, if I let my personal feelings stop me from protecting my men and wiping out the Germans—”

“I understand … I’ve just never known a man like you before. I’m sure we should have had more like you in Denmark.”

With her forefinger she touched the handle of the automatic, delicately caressing the roughness of its grip and the smooth steel at its edge. “We can’t let my father have guns,” she said. “He’s been in a very bad depression ever since we left Denmark. He tried to kill himself twice.”

“I’m sorry.”

“My husband hated guns. He taught biology at the University of Copenhagen. He called it the science of life. He said guns are instruments of death, and he wouldn’t have one in the house.”

“I can respect that.”

“But the Germans didn’t. They shot him, without knowing it was him, of course. They just strafed our little boat because we wandered into an area where they were supposed to strafe everything. It was quite a foggy morning. When they saw that we were just a little sailboat, they actually stopped firing.”

“That was nice of them.”

“At the time I wished I had a gun to shoot back, any kind of a gun at all. I threw a cup of tea I happened to have in my hand at the plane. It wasn’t a very effective defense.”

“Brit, you should understand that I have to be this way—”

“Oh, I do. I guess I hate and love you for it at the same time. My country really didn’t fight the war. We just gave up. A few people talked about putting up heroic resistance, but not many. So we just let the Germans in.”

“The Danes had no choice. The United States is in quite a different position—”

“Yes. You have many guns and many men who know how to use them. I was brought up on your cowboy and gangster movies. I know they’re only folk art, but you can tell a lot about a people from their folk art.”

“We’re not really so bloodthirsty. Now we have to learn how. It comes hard to us too …”

She picked up the pistol in its holster. “I never held a gun before.”

“Believe it or not, I just learned how to shoot that thing today.”

“You’re better with the bigger guns on your ship, I expect. Do you mind if I take this out of its case?”

“I’m afraid I do mind.”

“Why?”

“It’s just a feeling. I know you’d be careful, but that’s my gun. They are issued only to commissioned officers in the Coast Guard. That sounds silly, doesn’t it? Anyway, I can’t let anybody mess with my gun. It’s just a very deep instinct.”

“So it’s not just a mechanism, it’s a symbol. It’s too important to let a mere woman touch.”

“A mere civilian would be more like it. Put the gun down, Brit. Let’s forget it.”