Strange Conflict (11 page)

Unlike the previous morning, de Richleau felt unrefreshed by his sleep, as is always the case after a night which one's astral has been working instead of merely amusing itself. On reaching his room, therefore, he turned in and slept for another couple of hours, this time renewing his strength by idling in those pleasant places which he could reach at will.

Later that day, after the Duke had recounted his night's adventures to the others, Richard remarked: ‘How strange it is that the Admiral, who appears to be such a devoted husband in this world, should promptly rush off in his astral for fun and games with a little bit of Chinese nonsense, while the Captain, who is evidently a bright lad here, devotes himself to good works when he's on the other side.'

‘There's nothing particularly strange in that,' replied the Duke. ‘A person may be in a comparatively low state of spiritual development yet through energy and singleness of purpose achieve a position of considerable authority during one of his lives on Earth, just as the Admiral has done. On the other hand, however advanced people may be in their true selves, each time they are born again their knowledge is obscured by the flesh; so until their consciousness about the eternal truths is awakened through some fresh contact they may behave as though they were still in
the lowest form—sometimes they even die without apparently having achieved any further progress.'

‘That sounds an awful waste of time,' protested Rex.

‘Oh, no, it's not; because in every life one pays off certain debts and learns something. I once knew an old ploughman who could not even read or write, yet he was in his last Earthly incarnation and due to ascend to the Buddhaic sphere. He had no idea of that at all while in his body, but I knew it because I used to seek guidance from him on the astral. He had only one lesson left to learn—that of humility—and of his own free will he had deliberately elected to be born as a poor peasant to whom all knowledge of the Old Wisdom should be denied during his last life on Earth.'

‘Didn't realise one could choose the state one would like to be born in,' Simon commented.

‘You cannot until you're nearing the end of your Earthly lives and have very little left to learn. It is then granted to you to select such incarnations as will enable you to master those last lessons most rapidly—just as an advanced student at a university is allowed considerable latitude in the choice of the subjects he wishes to take and his hours of work. Our Lord, for example, took the extreme step of electing to bear the pains and penalties of his last three lives in one incarnation. In the short space of thirty years he paid off every remaining debt that he had incurred during his many lives on this, the material plane, and with an unsurpassed display of fortitude supported all the resulting suffering so that he might free himself from the flesh for ever.'

‘He obviously had true memory, though,' remarked Marie Lou. ‘Any number of his sayings bear witness to it.'

‘Certainly. Most people who are well on the upward path are reawakened some time in each Earthly incarnation. The
chance
of acquiring knowledge comes to many, either through someone they meet or through a book. Those who are not ready refuse to accept it, but those who
are
ready instinctively realise at once that all other faiths contain only a portion of the truth, because every single one of them embodies inconsistencies which cannot be got over; whereas the true wisdom is absolutely logical and completely just. No-one who has knowledge ever endeavours to force it on anyone else, because to do so is sheer waste
of time; but whenever anyone is ready to receive it, steps are taken to ensure that he shall do so.'

‘I wonder if I was really ready when, some years ago, you first brought it to us?' said Richard. ‘I believed all right, because everything you'd ever told us fitted in, and the law of Karma, by which one reaps exactly what one sows, not an atom more nor an atom less, is so obviously fair. It does away once and for all with the hoplessly unsatisfactory teaching that after one short life—a life of only a few years for those who die in childhood—a soul is either given entry to Heaven or damned to rot in Hell for all eternity. No thinking person can possibly subscribe to a belief which is based on such an absurd travesty of justice. But except on very rare occasions I've never succeeded in remembering my dreams and at one time both Marie Lou and I tried very hard indeed. She succeeded comparatively easily, whereas I could make no headway at all.'

‘That, Richard, is because Marie Lou had trained herself in past lives and at one time she was what is called a “looker” in a temple, so it was easy for her to pick up again. You, on the other hand, although you probably don't realise it, are a “healer”, as for a long time past you have steadily been cultivating your powers in that direction.'

‘That's interesting,' Richard smiled. ‘If Marie Lou gets a headache I can certainly take it away by just a few minutes' massage.'

De Richleau nodded. ‘If you started to train again you could probably do quite a lot in the way of taking pain from people who had toothache, rheumatism, and so on, as well. In any case, it is only by pure chance that Marie Lou happens to be more advanced than you are, and the fact that she remembers her dreams with unusual clarity has nothing whatever to do with it.'

‘Where do I come in?' asked Simon. ‘I can remember bits of my dreams every morning—that is if I concentrate when I wake up—but I've never been able to achieve continuity.'

‘You're fairly well on the road, as in past lives you trained as a neophyte.'

‘And me?' Rex inquired.

‘You, Rex, are much the youngest soul among us and that, perhaps, is why you're so successful with all modern things on the material plane, such as handling racing-cars
and aeroplanes. You have only just reached the stage at which it was time for you to be given your first opportunity to achieve wisdom. That, undoubtedly, is the reason why it was decreed that you and I should become friends.'

There was a little silence, then Simon said: ‘Er—getting back to the business in hand—it seems that you're stymied with both the Admiral and the Captain, so what's the drill now?'

‘I shan't bother any more with the Captain,' replied the Duke. ‘From his performance last night it's clear that he is a regular helper and quite definitely one of us. I don't suppose he remembers his dreams—unless at some time he has trained himself to do so—but on the astral he obviously has full consciousness of his past lives and is well set upon the upward path. It's quite unthinkable that anyone so advanced would be led into betraying his country unconsciously, and I'm sure that he could put up sufficient resistance on his own account to prevent any evil entity forcing him into anything that he didn't wish to do. I'll have to give the Admiral a little more supervision, though, as his astral life definitely still lacks continuity, and there may be periods when he is got hold of by our enemies without his understanding what is happening to him.'

In consequence, for the next seven nights de Richleau again accompanied the Admiral upon what were undoubtedly unplanned journeys to a great variety of places. The old boy was trying very hard to master the art of regaining his lost youth but as yet he evidently had only the most rudimentary notions as to how this could be done. Once he succeeded too well and de Richleau was amused to find him enthusiastically bowling a hoop in Kensington Gardens, while on another occasion, although apparently well advanced in years, he appeared in a sloe-eyed Spanish dancer's bedroom dressed in an Eton suit. But in spite of these slight misadventures he brought all the vigour of his indestructible true personality to the full enjoyment of his nights. His lady-friends were many and varied. Innumerable sets of tennis were played with one group of acquaintances or another, he took frequent occasion to swim, with a great spluttering, and appeared to find particular delight— which the Duke by no means shared—in going to sea in the
various ships that he had commanded, preferably in the roughest possible weather.

After a week of nights in the Admiral's company, during which nothing that could be regarded as in the least suspicious had occurred, the Duke formed the definte opinion that his hardy sailor could not be the unconscious means through which the Nazis were getting their information, so he decided that he must adopt a different line of investigation and went up to London to see Sir Pellinore.

He did not describe to the elderly Baronet the astral doings of the Admiral or the Captain, as he felt quite convinced that if he did Sir Pellinore's original scepticism would immediately return; it would have been asking too much of him to accept such apparently fantastic happenings, however natural they might be on the astral plane. Instead, the Duke gave a dry, business-like almost scientific report to the effect that during the past ten days he had utilised his powers to examine the subconscious of the two naval officers while they slept and had formed the opinion that neither was in any way responsible for the leakage.

‘Then, if they're not, who the devil is?' grunted Sir Pellinore.

‘Goodness knows,' replied the Duke. ‘We are now up against exactly the same problem as we were when you originally vouched for the integrity of these two officers. They are the only people who know
all
the routes given to various convoys, and it is outside all reason to suppose that the captain of each convoy which goes out is a traitor who has means of communicating with the enemy when he is already several hundred miles from his port of departure.'

‘Perhaps your theory is entirely wrong, then, and there is in the Admiralty, all unsuspected, a Nazi agent who has some means of photographing Fennimere's instructions to convoys after they're written out?'

De Richleau shrugged. ‘But the Admiral himself told us that immediately the writing of them is finished Fennimere seals them up in their weighted envelopes and locks them away in his steel despatch-box. In addition, we have Fennimere's word for it that the despatch-boxes are never unlocked again before he hands them over to the various
captains commanding convoy escorts, and I am quite prepared to take his word as to that.'

Sir Pellinore's blue eyes narrowed. ‘I meant that the convoy instructions might be photographed by some new X-ray process through Fennimere's despatch-box, either while they are still at the Admiralty or while he is en route for one of the ports.'

‘No,' de Richleau shook his head. ‘Even if an X-ray apparatus has been invented which would photograph through steel, it's quite certain that the handwritten instructions are folded up before they are inserted into their envelopes; therefore the writing on them would come out in the photograph as an oblong of incredibly confused strokes owing to several lines of writing being photographed one on top of the other. I feel convinced that it would be quite impossible to decipher such a document—or at least, sufficient of it to make sense.'

‘Damme!' exclaimed Sir Pellinore, ‘you're right there. But we
must
get to the bottom of this business somehow. It's frightful—utterly shattering! We lost another hundred thousand tons last week. Britain's shipping losses in the Atlantic have become the crux of the whole war. If we can defeat the Nazis there everything else will take care of itself in due course; but if not, we'll never be able to build up an Air Force big enough to smash the enemy, we'll be faced with starvation and—and God knows what unthinkable fate may overtake us all.'

He rose a little wearily to indicate that the interview was over, as he added more slowly: ‘It's good of you to have done what you have in an attempt to help us, but since you've failed we must try to think up other lines of investigation. I'm sure you'll forgive me now. Got a number of urgent things to which I must give my immediate attention.'

‘One moment, 'said the Duke quietly. ‘My own theory may be wrong, but I haven't the least intention of throwing in my hand. Since you did me the honour of calling me in, whether the leakage is on the astral or the physical plane I mean to find it.'

‘That's decent of you, but I don't see what more you can do.'

‘Having failed this end, I can try the other; if you're
prepared to get me particulars as to when the next convoy sails and the route it will take.'

‘I see. You propose to try working back from an actual sinking?'

‘That's the idea. But I must know approximately where the ships will be in order to find them in the great wastes of the Atlantic at night, as I make no pretence that my powers are omnipotent.'

Sir Pellinore nodded slowly. ‘Well, it's a pretty stiff request—in fact, one which will have to be referred to the First Lord—but in such exceptional circumstances I've no doubt that I can fix it. Naturally, though, I wouldn't dare mention the most unusual line that your investigations are taking. And that's a nasty fence to get over, as I'm certain to be asked what use you propose to make of the information.'

‘I don't think that need worry you,' replied the Duke. ‘Tell them that I have a theory which I am not at the moment prepared to disclose but which concerns the interception of directional wireless, and that if I'm to check up on the messages sent out by any convoy it's essential that I should be informed of its approximate position.'

‘That sounds all right on the face of it, but it won't wash in practice. I should have thought you would have realised that none of our ships use wireless once their escort has left them; to do so would give away their position to the enemy.'

‘Of course,' de Richleau smiled, ‘but the line I am suggesting is that, unknown to the Admiralty, somebody may use a new type of portable sending apparatus, and that I am endeavouring to find out if that is so.'

‘Umph,' grunted the Baronet; ‘that's pretty good. You're a shrewd feller, Duke. Very well; I'll see the people concerned tonight, and I may be able to give you the information you want tomorrow morning.'