The Other Teddy Roosevelts by Mike Resnick Page B

stared at his son. “So don’t tell me what I can’t do, Kermit.”
    “But this isn’t like anything else you’ve done,” persisted Kermit.
    “What better reason is there to do it?” said Roosevelt with a delighted grin.
    “But—”
    “Ex-Presidents are supposed to sit around in their rocking chairs and only come out for parades. Well, I’m 51 years old, and I’m not ready to retire yet. Another opportunity like this may never come along.” Roosevelt gazed off to the west, toward the Congo. “Think of it, Kermit! More than half a million square miles, filled with nothing but animals and savages and a few missionaries. The British and French and Portugese and Belgians and Italians all have had their chance at this continent; Africa ought to have one country developed by someone who will bring them American know-how and American democracy and American values. We’re a rustic, frontier race ourselves; who better to civilize yet another frontier?” He paused, envisioning a future that was as clear to him as the present. “And think of the natural resources! We’ll turn it into a protectorate, and give it favored nation trading status. There’s lumber here to build thirty million houses, and where we’ve cleared the forests away we’ll create farms and cities. It will be America all over again—only this time there will be no slavery, no genocide practiced against an indigenous people, no slaughter of the buffalo. I’ll use America not as a blueprint, but as a first draft, and I’ll learn from our past mistakes.”
    “But it isn’t another America, Father,” said Kermit. “It’s a harsh, savage country, filled with hundreds of tribes whose only experience with white men is slavery.”
    “Then they’ll be happy to find a white man who is willing to redress the balance, won’t they?” replied Roosevelt with a confident smile.
    “What about the legalities involved?” persisted Kermit. “The Congo is a Belgian colony.”
    “They’ve had their chance, and they’ve muddled it badly.” Roosevelt paused. “Suppose you let me worry about the Belgians.”
    Kermit seemed about to argue the point, then realized the fruitlessness of further debate. “All right,” he said with a sigh.
    “Was there anything else?”
    “Yes,” said Kermit. “What do you know about this man Boyes?”
    “The man’s a true pioneer,” said Roosevelt admiringly. “He should have been an American.”
    Kermit shook his head. “The man’s a scalawag.”
    “That’s your conclusion after being wined and dined in his tent for a single evening?”
    “No, Father. But while you were taking your morning walk and watching birds, I was talking to some of his companions about him. They thought they were bragging about him and telling me stories that would impress me—but what I heard gave me a true picture of the man.”
    “For example?” asked Roosevelt.
    “He’s always in trouble—with the law, with the British army, with the Colonial Office.” Kermit paused. “They’ve tried to deport him from East Africa twice. Did you know that?”
    “Certainly I know it,” answered Roosevelt. Suddenly he grinned and pointed to a small book that was on the table next to his binoculars. “I spent most of the night reading his memoirs. Remarkable man!”
    “Then you know that the British government arrested him for…” Kermit searched for the word.
    “Dacoity?”
    Kermit nodded. “Yes.”
    “Do you know what it means?” asked his father.
    “No,” admitted Kermit.
    “In this particular case, it means that he signed a treaty with the Kikuyu and got them to open their land to white settlement, and some higher-up in the Colonial government felt that Mr. Boyes was usurping his authority.” Roosevelt chuckled. “So they sent a squad of six men into Kikuyuland to arrest him, and they found him surrounded by five thousand armed warriors. And since none of the arresting officers cared very much for the odds, Mr. Boyes