The Naked and the Dead - Norman Mailer [154]
Hearn was looking at his hands. "We're not in the future yet."
"You can consider the Army, Robert, as a preview of the future."
Hearn looked at his watch. "It's time to go to chow." Outside the tent the earth was almost white in the glare of the overhead sun.
"You'll go to chow when I release you."
"Yes, sir." Hearn scraped his foot slowly against the floor, stared at him quietly, a little doubtfully.
"You threw that cigarette on my floor today, didn't you?"
Hearn smiled. "I figured that was going to be the point of all this talk."
"It was simple enough for you, wasn't it? You resented some of my actions, and you indulged a childish tantrum. But it's the kind of thing I don't care to permit." The General held his half-smoked cigarette in his hand, and waved it slightly as he spoke. "If I were to throw this down on the floor, would you pick it up?"
"I think I'd tell you to go to hell."
"I wonder. I've indulged you too long. You really can't believe I'm serious, can you? Supposed you understood that if you didn't pick it up, I would court-martial you, and you might have five years in a prison stockade."
"I wonder if you have the power for that?"
"I do. It would cause me a lot of difficulty, your court-martial would be reviewed, and after the war there might be a bit of a stink, it might even hurt me personally, but I would be upheld. I would have to be upheld. Even if you won eventually, you would be in prison for a year or two at least while it was all being decided."
"Don't you think that's a bit steep?"
"It's tremendously steep, it has to be. There was the old myth of divine intervention. You blasphemed, and a lightning bolt struck you. That was a little steep too. If punishment is at all proportionate to the offense, then power becomes watered. The only way you generate the proper attitude of awe and obedience is through immense and disproportionate power. With this in mind, how do you think you would react?"
Hearn was kneading his thighs again. "I resent this. It's an unfair proposition. You're settling a difference between us by. . ."
"You remember when I gave that lecture about the man with the gun?"
"Yes."
"It's not an accident that I have this power. Nor is it that you're in a situation like this. If you'd been more aware, you wouldn't have thrown down that cigarette. Indeed, you wouldn't have if I were a blustering profane General of the conventional variety. You don't quite believe I'm serious, that's all."
"Perhaps I don't."
Cummings tossed his cigarette at Hearn's feet. "All right, Robert, suppose you pick it up," he said quietly.
There was a long pause. Under his breastbone, Cummings could feel his heart grinding painfully. "I hope, Robert, that you pick it up. For your sake." Once more he stared into Hearn's eye.
And slowly Hearn was realizing that he meant it. It was apparent in his expression. A series of emotions, subtle and conflicting, flowed behind the surface of his face. "If you want to play games," he said. For the first time Cummings could remember, his voice was unsteady. After a moment or two, Hearn bent down, picked up the cigarette, and dropped it in an ashtray. Cummings forced himself to face the hatred in Hearn's eyes. He was feeling an immense relief.
"If you want to, you can go to chow now."
"General, I'd like a transfer to another division." Hearn was lighting another cigarette, his hands not completely steady.
"Suppose I don't care to arrange it?" Cummings was calm, almost cheerful. He leaned back in his chair, and tapped his foot slowly. "Frankly, I don't particularly care to have you around as my aide any longer. You aren't ready to appreciate this lesson yet. I think I'm going to send you to the salt mines. Suppose after lunch you report over to Dalleson's section, and work under him for a while."
"Yes, sir." Hearn's face had become expressionless again. He started toward the exit of the tent, and then paused. "General?"
"Yes?" Now that it was over, Cummings wished that Hearn would leave. The victory was losing its edge, and minor regrets, delicate little reservations, were cloying him.