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yours.”
    I had hit him—as hard as I could, lefthanded and backhanded in that cramped space—literally before I knew what I was doing. He took it full in the face without flinching, and it knocked him back against the frame. But as I struck, his hand came up and touched my left wrist—not a grab or a blow, just a touch like a cat's playful pat.
    He straightened up and leaned on the wheel again. Still, that had gotten to him. It took a minute for his eyes to clear—ten seconds, anyway—and when they did, he looked really hard for the first time, like a man fighting. “It is not your fault,” he went on smoothly. “You have the strength, and the courage, and the brain, and now the gun. You lack only the army.” I could see he was swallowing blood. “If my troops were not occupying your town, I should act differently. Perhaps I should even start the car. But now, sir, if you kill me"—he smiled thinly, swallowed again, and shrugged—"it is the end for me, but it is the beginning of very bad things for you and for Kraftsville, and for many other places.”
    “Your little Turkistani wolf pack looks pretty small in the middle of the United States of America, General.”
    His mouth pursed with amusement or a good imitation of it. “Do not forget, sir, that I command the armed forces of the United States of America.”
    “You can't tell me they'd fight for you.”
    Another shrug. “Was it necessary for the armed forces of Vichy France to fight for Hitler? Do not deceive yourself with false hopes, sir. There is no United States government to help you. There is no Soviet government. There is no government in Canada, in England, in France, in Germany, in Egypt, in Israel, in Turkey, in India, in China, in Japan, in Australia. I am the government. I am the leash that holds my wolf packs. If you kill me now, sir"—he smiled a real smile—"hell breaks loose.”
    “As far as I can see, it already has.”
    He shook his head gently at me. “Then you have not seen war.”
    “What happens if I don't kill you now?”
    He turned and spat over his shoulder, and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “You will not be punished. You have asked how I can prevent others from killing me. There is no certain method. But you, sir, can help. Do you understand?”
    “You mean spread the word that you're worse dead than alive?”
    “Exactly.”
    “Before I did that, I'd have to believe it. And I'm not about to believe anything till I know a whole lot more about the situation. Just what the hell have you done, General? What the hell are you planning to do?”
    He said nothing. He looked at me, cool and level. The gun felt warm and heavy in my hand. “Do you think I am some politician,” he said at last, “to feed upon power and praise?”
    “I think you're a devil. I think you're a barbarian Hitler. Your idea of fun is raping children in front of their mothers.”
    “Fun, yes,” he agreed comfortably. “If you cannot endure this, sir, shoot—and let my soldiers have their turn. But I have not conquered the world for ... fun.”
    Up the back of my neck I felt my scalp prickling. “There's a lot of world not covered in that list you reeled off.”
    An empty smile flitted across his face. He looked very thoughtfully at the pistol in my hand. “Well, I am a soldier. I do not pretend that I would have let the chance go by, once I saw it. But also I saw another chance.” He met my eyes suddenly. “More difficult, sir. But if I work quickly, it is conceivable that I can do it.”
    I had to wet my lips again. “Do what?”
    “Make the world a good place in which to live.”
    I heard myself make a snorting noise. Somehow I had expected better from him.
    He smiled innocently. “Or I could say, ‘destroy civilization,’ if you prefer that I should be ... diabolical. But what is that civilization, sir? Is it so worthy of preservation? Tell me, what was wrong with the world, sir?”
    “I'll tell you exactly what is wrong with