The Mysterious Ambassador (22 page)

At the end of the meal, the subject of Bababu was brought up. What should be done about him? The subject sat nearby on the stool, barely hearing or caring, sunk in depression.

"He could and perhaps he should be returned to Mawitaan to face the high court for his crimes against the state," said Luaga. "Yet there are many people, thousands who followed him foolishly, out of fear, and they share part of the guilt. I want to heal our nation and bring people together. The major criminals, like Mokata, must be punished. As for the rest, I need the best people from all sides to build this new nation."

All considered this for a moment. The chiefs looked at the Phantom.

In the cave, he and Luaga had discussed the relative merits o^judging Bababu in the city or in the jungle. For the city, there were such witnesses as the pilots Lanston and Osborne, the captive gun crew, plus the host of Bababu's victims in the civil war. But in the jungle, the Council of Chiefs had such vast authority that none in Bangalla would question them. So it was decided.

"Chiefs, you are wise in the ways of men. You have heard Lamanda Luaga. What is your thinking?" said the Phantom.

"We also wish to be part of this nation," said Wambato, high chief of Wambesi, the largest tribe of the jungle. "He wishes to avoid the trouble in the city that the return of Bababu would cause. We understand that."

"That is good thinking," said the Phantom. "Continue."

"I say, let us, the Council of Chiefs, reach a decision now, while we are gathered here," said Wambato. All nodded their agreement.

"What is your thinking," said Llionto, high chief of Llongo, the second largest tribe of the jungle.

"My first idea would be to hang him at once," said Wambato. Bababu, on his stool, perked up at that and listened alertly. The chiefs nodded and murmured their agreement.

"But our new " continued Wambato, pausing

and looking at Luaga.

"President," said Luaga, with a smile.

"President," said Wambato, pronouncing the strange word slowly, "does not wish to kill him. Then we must decide another proper punishment for this evil man."

The chiefs meditated for a moment. Each ruler served as prosecutor, jury, and judge in his own tribe. They were used to making quick decisions.

"There are twelve tribes here today," said Wambato, looking at his fellow chiefs. "I say this: Bababu of Byangi shall work two years at hard labor in each nation. The work shall begin in my nation. If he attempts to escape, let him be found and killed. This is my judgment."

The chiefs nodded their agreement, and it was done. Bababu stared at them blankly. He had left the jungle as a troublesome youth and returned as a criminal. This sentence was not a light one. Hard labor among jungle folk was not an idle term. It was hard, daily, unrelenting. Bababu would pay for his crimes.

In Mawitaan, the broadcast caused a sensation. The war-torn capital went wild. People really did dance in the streets, on the sidewalks, and in the alleys, too. In Bababu's camp, the broadcast was equally sensational. The troops deserted en masse, stampeding, tearing down tents and wire fences in their anxiety to get away and return to their homes in the towns and in the jungle. Soon only a few of the officer corps were left, huddled around Colonel Mokata. There was nothing they could have done to stop the wholesale desertion. Now they were concerned about their own skins, and made quick plans to flee the country and find safety abroad. But these plans failed even before they began. Troops of Luaga, the guerillas so long despised by Bababu's men, quickly took over. Taking over included Mokata and his staff. They were saved from lynching by close associates of Luaga who advised moderation. Mokata and his staff landed in jail in cells still warm from the prisoners they had had confined there.

The good news flashed around the world. This was the happy answer to General Bababu's mysterious disappearance. And the name of Lamanda Luaga suddenly became important in the capitals of the world. The governments did research on this new leader. Rhodes Scholar, Olympic light heavyweight boxing champion, UN medical doctor, a talented man. And handsome, too, was the female verdict. A bachelor!

Luaga's return to Mawitaan was a triumph. As the new president took residence in the palace, still littered with Bababu's broken cigarette holders, the cameras and microphones of the world recorded the event. Appearing on the balcony of the palace and facing a million people in the plaza beyond, his words were drowned out by the unremitting roar of a million voices. Some reporters noticed a man standing in the doorway behind Luaga, a tall man wearing a hat, sunglasses, and a topcoat. A big dog was with him, held by a leash. They asked who he was. A friend of Luaga's? No one seemed to know. A security guard?

In the UN Secretariat, in the shining skyscraper in New York, the news was received with pleasure and satisfaction. Only Cari and the Secretary-General knew all the facts behind the news. They had received a cable from the nation newly liberated from the dictatorship of General Bababu. (No one seemed to know yet what had happened to him.)

Sec. Gen. UN. N. Y.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED Walker

The news reached Diana and the medical team as they were setting up their clinic on the Caribbean island. They were as happy as the crowds in Mawitaan and had their own celebration, popping several bottles of champagne, iced this time. Cari forwarded a copy of the cable to Diana.

"A man of few words," said Kirk, an observation that had been made before.

"All good ones," said Diana.