“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 one-time 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.