Out of The Village!

 

  You recognize that face don’t you, of course you do, you know you do, its the Colonel! You are the Colonel now, and isn’t that a shame because you can’t go running back to him this time. What’s more you now know which side is to blame for your incarceration in the village. Or at the very least you know the Colonel is in league with those behind the village administration. I find it interesting that this is the second occasion that you have come to realize the truth of the situation by looking deep into a mirror, and as we know the mirror like the camera cannot lie! One thing’s for sure, you’re in a right pickle and no mistake.
   Go on, punch him on the nose!

  There, I bet you feel better for that, but it is bad luck to break a mirror you know, 7 years bad luck, is that why the number 7 doesn’t appear in the village?
   Abducted to the village, given a new identity No.6, a number you refused to acknowledge or respond to….but you were  a number long  before your abduction to the village isn’t that right ZM73? I wonder what the ZM stands for……. Zedekiah Mandrake perhaps? One final thought, I wonder if you, Colonel, know D6 and XO4?

Be seeing you

The Prisoner 1967 Lost Items #3 - The Prisoner as a series of 92mn films! By David Fakrikian

   Simply click on the link for the video

The Prisoner 1967 Lost Items #3 - The Prisoner as a series of 92mn films! (odysee.com)

Be seeing you

The Tally Ho

Your New Interim No.2!

by our own reporter 

    Duly elected by the people, for the people, of the people. That being the case, why are there so many mistrusting faces in the crowd outside the Town Hall when the new interim No.2 was presented to them? They called for No.2, and when they got him the good citizens of this community didn’t like what they got at all. And yet they voted for him!
    The out-going No.2 took the new interim No.2 to the Green Dome in a taxi driven by No.58, she accompanied the two into the Green Dome, I thought that rather peculiar, a maid in the company of two No.2, going into the Green Dome.
   Of course being interim does mean not permanent, there has never been a permanent No.2 in the village, and it’s likely there never will be. The position of No.2 doesn’t fit one man, and not one man is fit for the job, no one man could be. The question is, just how long will the former No.6 last as the new interim No.2?
    “This is our chance.... this is our chance take it now. I have command, I will immobilise all electronic controls.... Listen to me......You are free to go.... You are free to go..... I am in command, obey me and be free.... You are free to go...free to go…free to go.”
    Did you hear that? Sounded like No.6, I mean the new interim No.2, mind you that does sound like he’d lost the plot already! Free to go eh, that would be right, free to go to where, to where? The new interim No.2’s voice booming out across the village offering freedom but no-one was listening, or if they were they took no notice of him.
    I don’t know what they did to the new interim No.2, but I expect the “tissue” if not damaged, was certainly bruised a good deal, no doubt the punishment for attempting to organise a mass breakout. Reports say he was carried from the Green Dome to his cottage on a stretcher, so he wasn’t in office all that long, possibly the shortest on record so far!

    What Are Facts Behind Town Council?

    The former interim No.2’s, one of which couldn’t get out of the village fast enough, the other left battered and bruised, did manage to avoid being co-opted onto the local town council. The facts are as this, that any pervious interim No.2 who has held office has been duly co-opted onto the local Town Council, to join those sub-divided No.2’s, those brainwashed imbeciles so eloquently described by No.6 as he was then. How or why they ended up to be so, is open to speculation, if they are at all. They may have been chosen for effect, stand there, do not move, do not talk, and show no emotion, if questioned make no reply, show no response. Local council elections held each year, the writer of this column has lived in the village a good many years, and I’ve never known an election to take place until now, and to what purpose? A newly elected No.2 so called, who doesn’t last five minutes, and another who takes his place instantly. To some people the village is a place of injustice, to others a place of torment, a prison from which there is no escape, where people who have committed no crime are held against their will. To some it is just a game, to others the village is a matter of life and death.

            We Welcome The New Interim, Interim No.2

    And so yet another interim No.2 takes up office in the Green Dome, one can only trust she will last longer than that of her predecessor! But how it is that a former maid can rise to the position of Chairman of the village, second only to One? This reeks of nepotism, of the old pals act, otherwise they would have brought the former No.2 back for a second term in office, or run another election. But No.2 quickly departed the village in the helicopter and is now long gone. So what of this interim, interim No.2? She was a sweet young thing as No.58, but now it seems she has turned into a hard faced No.2 whose sole purpose is to extract the reason behind No.6’s resignation. Perhaps this No.58 was the new interim No.2 all the time, and the election of No.6 as the new No.2 was all a game. The reason for the old interim No.2 to build No.6 up so that the new interim No.2 could knock him down. Whether or not this interim No.2 will be good for the village is perhaps a question worth asking.

 Be seeing you

Who’s That On the Telephono?

 

    “Report on Number 6, normal classification on arrival subject showed shock symptoms, followed by accepted behaviour pattern. Since then has been un-cooperative and distinctly aggressive. Attempted to escape, subject proving exceptionally difficult, but in view of his importance no extreme measured to be used yet.”

    “He has not volunteered any information so far but appears to be settling down. He even attended the regular bass band concert today”

  Is that a Dictaphone your holding? I only ask because you don’t hold the telephone or intercom to your ear like everyone else, which is an indication you’re not having a conversation with anyone. So I deduce you are recording your reports, or dictating them to a girl in the typing pool! The red telephone you’re using is the hot-line to No.1, if it was No.1 you were reporting to I don’t think you’d be talking to him like that, telling him “In view of his importance no extreme measured to be used yet,” because No.1 would already know that.
   You are very casual in how you use the telephones, is that how you were told to use them? And yet you haven’t been in the job five minutes, and once you’ve taught No.6 that escape isn’t possible you’ll be gone as quickly as your predecessor! Your successor will be better at making his reports, giving them a heading and using a new digital recording device!

Be seeing you

Further Tales From The Village

    I suppose it was not unlikely that one day I should be abducted and wake up here amongst you, but where is here, how did I get here, and who are you?
    “Wouldn't you like to know” the voice said.
    “Here is the village, how you came here is unimportant, who am I, I am Number 2, and you are our new Number 6.”
   “What happened to the old one?”
  “He’s past his prime, and we need a new challenge.”
  “What was he like?”
  “Arrogant, well educated, intelligent, good at woodwork and navigation, a good swimmer, artistic, stubborn, rebellious, non-conforming, apt to poke his nose in where it had no business. Troublesome, single-minded, individualistic I could go on.”
    “I’m not a bit like that.”
    “No, the former Number 6 was many things, a larger than life character you could say, at times too good to be true.”
    “And now you’ve got me!”
    “And now we’ve got you.”
    “So what do you want?”
    “I want you to try and escape!”
    “Escape?”
    “Yes.”
    “How?”
    “There are several ways, can you fly a helicopter?”
    “No.”
    “Well perhaps you could fell a tree and fashion a boat out of the trunk.”
    “I could, where do I get the tools?”
    “You make the tools yourself, stone axe, and chisel.”  
    “That sounds like a lot of hard work, what might be my chances?”
    “What of drowning, very high I should think!”
    “No, I mean of escape?”
    “Oh very slim, no-one has managed to escape that way before.”
    “Then why suggest it?”
    “Well it would be worth a try.”
    “I don’t think I want to escape, I think I’ll stay here!”
    “What? It is the right of every prisoner to try and escape. By helicopter, boat, sea-going raft, motor boat, even by land in one of our own vehicles.”
    “I can drive.”
    “Well there you are then” No2 said enthusiastically.
    “Why are you so keen for me to try and escape?”
    “So we can chase you and bring you back.” 
    “But I’m here already!”
    “Where is the fun in that? Once you’ve attempted to escape once, you might get the taste for it, and perhaps try something more original the next time.”
    “Something more original, yes, I'll simply stay here. The Village doesn't look too bad. I could get a job, perhaps something in Administration. I used to work in Intelligence, I’m used to working with filing systems.”
    Number 2 shook his head “I couldn’t possibly allow you to get close to our secret files, but that was a good try Number 6. What else can you do?”
    “Well I like gardening, I could be a gardener, cutting the lawns, trimming hedges, planting bedding plants.”
    Number 2 nodded his head and exclaimed “That would afford you the opportunity to steal tools!”
   “Why would I want to steal tools?”
   “You could dig a tunnel and escape that way?”
   “Me, dig a tunnel…on my own!”

   “Yes, no-one has tried to tunnel their way out of the Village before!”

   “This is the Village, not Stalag-Luft 7, besides where would I put all the soil?”
    “Good point, perhaps that’s why no-one has tried that before!”
    “I could simply walk out of here, across to the far side of the estuary, I observed there’s a house on the far side.”
    “When did you observe that?”
     “From the top of the bell tower on the day of my arrival here.”
    “They might help you in your escape” No.2 suggested.
    “Who might?”
    “Whoever lives in that house.”
    “You know who lives in that house…don’t you, otherwise why allow someone to live so close to the village?”
    “How intelligent of you to think of that.”
    “Let me tell you Number 2, I was not brought here, I was sent here!” the prisoner said rolling up his left sleeve “I have an automatic transponder just under the skin, I expect my friends are already on their way.”
    No.2 leaned forward and examined the prisoner’s fore arm.

    Operation Aldea had been the most complex of operations. A file had crossed a desk in Intelligence marked ‘Eyes Only’, ‘most secret’ by mistake.  A file which was just asking to be read. A village installation the basic function being the gathering of information, a place where people are abducted to, people with a certain kind of information, people who know too much, or too little, where they have many means and ways of breaking a man.
   So, give an agent a new identity and background, then place him high up in Intelligence, then draw attention to him through scandal, betrayal, and resignation then wait.
    “And you had me abducted to the village…..” the prisoner said.
    Suddenly the ‘L’ shaped telephone began to bleep, No.2 picked it up “Yes what is it.”
    “Supervisor here sir, we’ve picked something up on sonar, it could be a submarine…….sir Post 5 has just reported that four boats are speeding towards the village, what action am I to take?”
    But it was all too late! Four fast CRRC {Combat Rubber Raiding Craft} had already entered the estuary heading towards the village. Onboard those craft, men in black uniform, armed to the teeth, members of her majesties Special Forces.
    “The game’s up Number 2” the Prisoner said “you had better inform Number 1.”
    “Who…..who are you?”
    “My name is Blake, Jonathan Blake, although for official purposes you may call me 005. Now I think we should go and greet your guests don’t you?”

Be seeing you

Village Life!

 

   “Do you have a map of the village?”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “I’ve never needed one.”
    “You must have one in your cottage.”
    “Yes I believe there is, in my desk drawer”
    “Have you ever used it?”
    “No, no I can’t say that I have.”
    “If you don’t use a map of the village, how do you get about?”
    “The village is small enough, and if I do get lost, or looking for somewhere then I ask someone. What’s all this about a map anyway?”
    “Well I decided to treat myself to a night at the Palace of Fun.”
    “So?”
    “I couldn’t find it!”
    “So you consulted your map of the village.”
    “Yes, you see the Palace of Fun is marked clearly on the map, but there’s no corresponding building in the village!”
    “Yeeeessssssss.”
    “What do you mean Yeeeessssssss?”
    “Well some time ago now, it was around the time of the local election,  I was a little bored, so I went out to spend a night at the Palace of Fun, I asked a few citizens if they could give me directions to said Palace of Fun. The thing was people have heard of the place, but no-one can actually find it, or give directions to it!”
    “So what happened?”
    “I went to the Cat and Mouse nightclub instead!”
    “According to the map of the village the Palace of Fun should be a few yards on passed the Town Hall.”
    “Well we have a few minutes before the meeting of the general purposes committee meeting, why not take a look.”
    “See!”
    “Yeeeeeesssss, I see, a hedge and trees.”
    “But no Palace of Fun, so if it doesn’t exist why is it marked on the map?”
    “Perhaps it was, perhaps they changed their minds and made it the Recreation Hall.”
    “The Recreation Hall, that’s not on the map!”
    “No, neither is the hospital, but that exists.”
    “Yes, along the drive situated outside the village.”
    “Yes but it’s in the village grounds.”
    “I’ve a mind to speak to the village cartographer!”
    “Why?”
    “To point out the map’s inaccuracies.”
    “I tell you something for nothing.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Since that night leaving the Cat and Mouse nightclub, well it’s not been there since!”
    “You mean they closed it down?”
    “Closed it down as though it had never been there in the first place!”
   “I tell you what.”
    “What?”
    “We had better be off for a cup of tea and a bun before the café disappears!”
    “All we want is for Number 2 to disappear and we’d all be happy!”

Be seeing you

The Light House

 

    Our friend No.6 woke up this morning having been washed up on a beach, I suppose it’s just as well that he didn’t swim out to that lighthouse, for there lies madness. Because such places are associated with keepers of the light who have been driven to the brink of madness for various reasons! After all look what happened in the lighthouse when he followed the Girl there. Her father had been cooped up in that lighthouse for months, that it had driven him completely round the bend!

    I remember the tale once told by a James Frazer about a Lighthouse on the furthest Western Isles where two brave Lighthouse keepers were marooned. Their staircase had collapsed, and they were cut off at the top. Well they were up there for two long months. And in the end, they decided there was only one way to get down. To dismantle the Lighthouse brick by brick, you see they had been up there for so long, that they had both gone quite mad! And if it wasn’t that, then it was as the Keeper of the light trying to stop the slithery thing which was trying to get in, trying to get in  trying….to….get….in! And here, here are some more such suggestions, such films I have watched at various times. 

    The most disturbing of these I found to be, was ‘The Lighthouse.’ So you see it’s just as well our friend No.6 chose to scale the chalky cliff rather than try and attract the attention of the Lighthouse keeper and his mate. Who knows what situation he might have found himself involved with. He could have been attacked by the slithery thing, or had his head caved in by a completely insane Lighthouse keeper. Or find having swum out to the Lighthouse, only to discover that he is unable to leave!

Be seeing you

Who's That On The Telephono?

 

    Supervisor “Right, put up section thirty-four, sound and vision.”
    Electrician “Calling electrics control......”
    “Electrics control?”
    “Ah good. I’m dealing with an emergency, can you switch temporary reserve power to 6 Private?”
    “Who is it you want to speak to?”
    “Electrics control, aren’t you electrics control?”
    “No.”
    “Well can you put me through to electrics control?”
    “Do I sound like the telephone operator?”
    “No, but you sound like someone important enough who could have me put through to electrics control.”

    “You’re talking to the supervisor!”
    “Well there you are then.”
    “Look I want section thirty-four put up on my wall screen with sound and vision.”
    “Well I can’t do that for you, I’m out here in the night dealing with a power failure in 6 Private.”
    “We all have our problems!”
     “All I want is for electrics control to switch in temporary reserve power into 6 Private, and I need a two-stroke-d replacement.”
    “What's that when it's at home?”
    “A light bulb.”
    “That’s the trouble with you civil servants, you always make up some ridiculous reference number like a two-stroke-d replacement when all you had to say is I need a new light bulb!”
    “It doesn’t sound very technical to say I need a new light bulb, and there’s a loss of dramatic impact to consider.”
    “Do you know who you are talking to?”
    “I thought I was through to Electrics Control.”
    “You are through to the Control Room, I'm on yellow.”
    “I've got a head-set!”
    “Look get off the line, I want section thirty-four put up on the screen with sound and vision!”
    “Well you can authorise the two-stroke-d replacement then?”
    “Clear the line!”
    “I'll call Number Two.”
    “Don't bother, he's here with me now.”
    “What's he doing?”
    “If it’s anything to do with you, he's on a learning curve!”
    “What, how to find out how many electricians it takes to change a two stroke-d replacement?”
    "I've a good mind to report you. What's your number?"
    The electrician thought for a moment...........Eighty-eight,” that should fix him!

{The line suddenly went dead!}

 Be seeing you

No.2 Is Dead!

 

    No.2 is dead! She was found by the butler when he took No.2 her elevenses. No.2 was found dead in the black global chair, in the purple walled chamber of her office strangled to death by person unknown. I would say person or persons unknown, but generally it doesn’t take two people to strangle another person to death. There being a lack of police force on the village, I was sent for, being high up in the administration, and former assistant to a previous interim No.2. The butler has not ventured to speak, and we cannot get a word out of him! Did the Butler do it? Well it is curious the way he is nearly always seen to be wearing those black gloves, in the same way the Dorset strangler wore the same style of black leather gloves. But if you were to ask me if the butler did it, I could not say with any clarity that he did, neither can I say with equal clarity that he did not. On the other hand he might have seen the person who did do it. It is my bountiful duty to begin an investigation in order to ascertain the truth of the matter, which will be extremely difficult as the butler was the only other person in the Green Dome other than that of No.2, although the butler was in the annexe to the Green Dome making No.2 her elevenses. Both the tea things and the biscuits attribute to that fact, unless of course the butler strangled No.2 then calm as you like went to make the tea!
    There are two ways into No.2’s office, the one via the pair of steel doors which lead through a pair of French doors, into the foyer and out through the front door. The front door is often left unsecured during daylight hours, and the butler is not always in attendance in the foyer. So anyone might have entered by that route. The other way is through the floor, to rise up sitting in the black global chair, or any other of the black leather chairs from a void beneath the Green Dome leading from an underground passageway network. There is the possibility that No.2 was strangled to death before she had even reached her office, somewhere in the passageways, or in her room in the Town Hall. Then carried the body along the tunnels to the point beneath the Green dome, placed her in the black global chair and raised it up into her office to be found by the butler. And we come back to the question of the butler, as in all good fiction its always the butler who did it. So I shall not forget the butler, I shall remember him, and keep him in mind. The trouble is, other suspects are rather thin on the ground, and there have been deaths in the village from time to time, natural and sometimes unnatural when faced with that Guardian thing, suicides even. No.34 is one example of what I would term as an unnatural death, the body found on the shore, having been out after curfew. A death, which has as I understand it gone un-investigated, however I am getting away from the mater in hand.
   My first question would be, who would want to murder No.2? Someone clearly with means, motive, and opportunity, someone with a grudge against her perhaps, after all there are plenty of those in a place such as the village who might hold such a grudge, but prisoner or guardian? Perhaps someone with access for most areas of the village, someone in administration perhaps, No.2’s assistant No.22 springs to mind. It might be a good idea to start there, perhaps he can throw some light where all is dark!
    Suddenly the pair of steel blast proof doors slid open and No.22 strode into the office, the doors sliding shut behind him as the tall, fair haired man dressed in a grey blazer walked smartly down the ramp.
    “Who are you?” he asked, then he saw the figure of No.2 in the black global chair “what’s wrong with Number 2?”
   “Number 2 is dead” I said “I’ll call the hospital.”
    “How....how did she die?” 22 asked.
    “She was strangled to death” I said picking up the yellow ‘L’ shaped telephone “hospital please......hospital could you send an ambulance to the Green Dome at once......thank you. You I take it were Number 2’s assistant. When did you last see Number 2?”
    “Whatever has that to do with you? And you have yet to tell me who you are number........?” It was at that point he saw that the man had no number on the badge he wore.
    “I do not wear a number, I don’t have to.”
    “You don’t exist without a number” 22 told him.
    “Then give me a number” I said.
    No.22 decided to humour the man “86” he said.
    The man removed the badge from the lapel of his coat and pricked this thumb using the pin on the back of the badge, then carefully wrote the number 68 in blood on the badge, then pinned it back onto the lapel?
    “Happy now?”
    “Why did you do that?”
    “It’s psychology my old school teacher taught me. I should like to see Number 2’s quarters.”
    “Why?”
    “Because there is nothing personal to her in this office that’s why. Had she any callers this morning?”
    “I really couldn’t say.”
    “Oh could you not, you were Number 2’s assistant?”
    No.22 thought for a moment “I know she had had a meeting at the Town Hall, with the general purposes committee at ten o’clock.”
    “Had you been with Number 2 at all this morning?”
    “Yes, we always had a morning briefing.”
    “About what?”
    “About anything really, sometimes whether she needed me all day or not.”
    “I see.”
    Outside the Green dome a Mini-Moke towing a Red Cross trailer stopped at the steps leading up to the Green Dome, two orderlies alighted and carried a stretcher up the steps watched by a few concerned looking passers-by. At the front door one of the orderlies pulled on the black wrought iron bell pull, the butler opened the door and bid them to go in.
    The pair of steel doors slid open, the two orderlies entered the domed chamber.
    “Number 2 is dead” I told them.
    They looked at each other, then at me, and then at the body of No.2 still in the black global chair.
    “You may take her away to the hospital for an autopsy” I told them.
    Rigor mortis had not yet set in, so it was not difficult to remove the body and lay the body out onto the stretcher.
    “Tell the doctor I look forward to receiving his post-mortem report.”
    The two orderlies covered the body then carried her out of the Green Dome to the waiting ambulance, then drove out of the village in the direction of the hospital.
    “Right, shall we go?” I asked.
    “Go, go where?” 22 asked.
    “To Number 2’s quarters.”
    “Aren’t you going to question the butler?”
    “There seems little point, he’s a mute.”
    “Also he’s a prime suspect.”
    “Why, because he wears gloves?”
    “There were no fingerprints on Number 2’s neck, the strangler therefore wore gloves, and the only person in the village to wear gloves is the butler! You never did tell me who you are!”
    “I’m Number 68, it says so on my badge.”
    “You wore a white badge with a black penny farthing but no number. Who would wear such a badge?”
    “A man with no number perhaps.”
    “Just who are you, how did you get in here?”
    “All I have to do is pick up a telephone and call security.”
    “Go on then” 14 said calling the man’s bluff.”
    “You think I won’t?”
    “I know you won’t!”
    “I know one thing.”
    “What’s that?”
    “I’m not going back there!”
    “Back where?”
    “Don’t you know?”
    “No, why don’t you tell me?”
    The pair of steel doors opened and a man in a white coat stood framed in the doorway “I’ll tell you, it’s because he’s completely insane. He’s under the illusion that he’s the Dorset strangler.”
    “I am, you see I strangled Number 2 to death.”
    The man backed way taking something from his pocket he put them on, a pair of black leather gloves “She did it you see, she had to pay for sending me there.”
    “Where 14?” asked.
    “To the hospital. But I fooled them, I escaped, and made her pay for what was done to me.”
    “What was done to you?”
    “They put me through the Seltzman machine, they turned me into a murderer, a strangler. I didn’t want to strangle all those women. If they hadn’t messed with my mind, hadn’t sent me to Dorset in the first place........”
    The doctor moved forward.
    “You aren’t going to take me” he said pressing a button on the control panel.
    A round disc in the floor slid back to reveal a dark hole.
    “No, you’re not taking me back there noooooo” and with one bound the man leapt through the hole and to his death.
    “I shall have to make a report about this doctor” 14 said.
    “Why, it’s just another failed experiment” the doctor replied staring down into the black hole.
    “There’s two deaths, and the murder of Number 2 to be accounted for” 14 reminded him.
    Suddenly the red ‘L’ shaped telephone began to bleep.
    “Well it’s not for me” said the doctor.
    No.14 approached the desk and nervously picked up the device.
    “Number 14 here, Number 2 is dead.......................”

Be seeing you

Village Life!

 

    P “Why is that man wearing those glasses?”
    2 “Snow blindness.”
    “Has he got snow blindness?”
    “No, not since he started wearing the glasses!”

Be seeing you

Out of The Village!

 

    What was it No.2 once said? “He’ll eventually go back to his room, it’s the only place he can ever go.” And here you are, looking at it you could almost be back in the village! But when you knocked on the door who did you expect would be there to open it? I suppose you could have broken in, but that’s all you needed, to be arrested as a burglar! Mind you, you acted, and looked like an escaped prisoner back at the roadblock, and when you heard the police siren you leapt out of the back of that van quick enough, when you could so easily have leapt to your death! And now you’re having difficulty in trusting your senses, you’re looking out of the window, but there’s no sign of the Italianate village, what’s more the telephone has a dialling tone. But you should realize your whereabouts and the reality of the situation in having walked halfway across London, well at least between Park Lane and Buckingham Place! In London you could have taken on the look of a down and out, a vagrant without two pennies to rub together! And then to have been faced with Martha who looked down her nose at this vagrant who had the audacity to come begging at her mistress’s door! Then Mrs. Butterworth had the cheek to lend you the use of your own car! But when  it came to getting about, you could have taken those dollar bills out of the wall safe hidden behind the television set and exchanged them at the Bureau de Change, or the Bank, or had you forgotten about the safe? But just as though you had not been convinced by now, behind the writing bureau there was an area of dry rot which was made good about 12 months ago, the bathroom door is sliding, it opens to the left, the sink is on the right as you go in, and the hot and cold taps on the shower were put on the wrong way round.

    But never mind, you’re home now, and it’s almost as though you’d never been away, as No.2 once said “He’ll eventually go back to his room, it’s the only place he can ever go.” Oh yes, and the taps on the shower have been put on the other way round, otherwise they wouldn’t be right, would they!

Be seeing you

Further Tales From The Village

 

    “Beware the black Queen!”
    “Why do you say that?”

   They sat studying the human chess match as it was played.
    “That was a poor move” No.23 said “he should have played his King’s Knight.”
    “Why did you say that?” No.71 asked.
    “Because moving his Queen’s Rook like that he’s left himself wide open to mate in four moves.”
    “No, I mean beware the black Queen, your own mother couldn’t give you better advice.”
    “Queen takes Rook” a player called out through his megaphone.
    The black Queen moved diagonally two squares, two men in yachting caps, and black and white striped blazers and shorts  stepped onto the chessboard and escorted the white King’s Rook off the chessboard.

    “What was he saying?” the black Queen asked.
    “He told me not to trust you.”
    There was a round black badge pinned to the woman’s cape, with the red number 18. The acid faced woman was tallish, brunette hair, about 30 years of age.
    “You don’t know me!”
    “No.”
    The opponent raised the megaphone to his mouth and called out “King’s Knight to King’s Rook five.”
    No.71 moved two squares then one horizontal, three moves later, as the white King’s Knight, he was himself removed from the board and went to stand with No.23.
    “What makes the black Queen so dangerous?”
    “Because she is not to be trusted, that’s why I cannot put it plainer than that” and with that No.23 wandered off.

   Later that day No.71 was sat at a table on the lawn of the Old People’s Home, he was enjoying afternoon tea and the view across the estuary.
    “Not thinking of escape are you?” a woman’s voice asked.
    He looked up and saw the black Queen standing over him, and without being asked she sat down.
    “Aren’t you going to offer me tea?”
    He raised a hand and a waiter came over to his table.
    “Another cup if you please.”
    The waiter hurried away.

    “If you are going to attempt an escape, please, do not bother yourself.”
    “What’s it to you?”
    The waiter returned with cup and saucer in hand and placed it on the table.
    “Everything that has been possible has been attempted, and no-one has escaped yet. Or at least their bodies have not been brought back.”
    “Sugar?” he asked.
    “No thank you” she replied.
    “Milk?” he asked with milk jug in hand.
    “Yes please.”
    He poured milk into the cup, and then poured out the tea.
    He watched the black Queen while he sipped his tea “How do you find the tea?”
    “Delicious” she said taking the cup from her lips.
    “It’s just that a way out has not yet been found” he told her.
    “And you think you can find it?”
    “It all depends upon who you can trust.”
    “And you don’t trust me?”
    “Lady I don’t trust anyone!”
    “You’re just a professional bastard!”
    “It’s got me where I am today” he said rising from the table.
    The waiter returned for payment for the tea, No.71 paid with his credit card and went on his way.

    “You think he’s going to try and escape?” No.2 asked watching No.71 returning to his cottage on the large wall screen.
    “I think he’s weighing up his options” she told her superior.
    “When will he make his move do you think?”
    “I think he’s made it already!”
    “What?!”
    “I think he’s found a way out already.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I have been observing our friend from a distance, and there are times when he has a faraway look in his eye, and then he’s gone.”
    “Gone?”
    “Gone, gone away and subconsciously he’s somewhere else.”
    “In his mind?”
    “I think his mind creates places where he can escape to, if only for a few minutes it gets him out of the village"

    On the screen No.71 arrived at his cottage door, he went inside only to see he had visitors.
    “Where have you been?”
    “Nowhere, I’ve been here.”
    “You weren’t here when we arrived.”
    “So you let yourself in, you, your son, and your goons!”
    “Why are you so against us 71? Why are you so troubled? Outside the people are going about their daily lives, happy and content.”
    “And you want me living happy and contented.”
    “You could at least try and settle down, join in.”
    “I keep thinking what’s wrong with this place, questioning how I came to be here.”
    “They tell me you are often seen to be in a daze, with a far away look in your eye. I think you should go to the Clinic and have a check-up just to be on the safe side.”
    “On the safe side, on the safe side of what?”
    “It’s just what they say.”
    A black Bedford van pulled up outside 71’s apartment, two medical orderlies got out and wheeled a stretcher to the door as 2 and his bodyguards were leaving.

    “How are you today 71?” the doctor asked.
    “I’m the same today as I was………I know you, you’re Number 23.”
    The woman in a white coat gazed down at her patient “I’m 131 always have been” she said smiling.
    “131……no you’re the black Queen!”
    The doctor turned from the operating table to a small trolley and prepared a hypodermic syringe, then turned back to her patient.
    “What is real to you 71? This drug works on human perception, the organization, identification, and interpretation of sensory information in order to represent and understand the presented information or environment. In other words you are where you think you are. The subconscious has many different levels, together we have explored one level. But which is real, the Italianate village surrounded by the woods and mountains. Or here in the village surrounded by desert and mountains?”

    There was a small scratch as the needle of the syringe entered 71’s forearm.
    It was the cold that stuck the Prisoner first. Snow was think on the ground and on the roofs of the surrounding buildings. He was sat on a park bench, there was just one set of footprints in the snow which led up to the bench he now sat on.
   “Are you alright sir? You shouldn’t be sat out here in the cold, its twenty below zero, you’ll freeze to death.”
   The man in the piped blazer looked about the village with its Scandinavian architecture, and at the man standing in the snow, dressed in furs and snow goggles.
   “Where….where am I?”
   “Dette er dette landsbyen."

Be seeing you

The Prisoner 8mm film of the shoot.

      What fascinating film footage, and record of the Prisoner film shoot at Portmeirion in September 1966.
   I  came across this, this afternoon on YouTube, via facebook, and felt compelled to share it. It is quite a remarkable piece of achieve film footage.
   I have said there will always be something connected to the Prisoner, hidden away, out there still to be discovered. 

   Watch and enjoy.

Be seeing you

The Tally Ho

 

The Village Lighthouse!

by our own reporter

    At the far end of the cliff walk, heading towards the outer zone, there is a stunted metal tower fitted with a bell. It is known as a Lighthouse to the citizens of this community, yet who is there who can give reason for its construction when as we know, no shipping comes along the estuary. The presence of any such Lighthouse is made clear to warn shipping of the presence of dangerous rocks. And yet there are no dangerous rocks, there is no shipping to warn.
    The Lighthouse has no light, is not fitted with a fog horn, but there is a bell and the bell has been heard. So is this Lighthouse manned by a Keeper of the light, or rather bell keeper? Because what else would cause this great bell to chime, other than by the hand of a keeper? Or perhaps the Lighthouse be haunted, and if it is what kind of wet, green slithery thing is at the door trying to get in…..trying to get in, well it would if the Lighthouse did in fact have a door! What kind of thing do haunt it that rings the bells so its eerie knell sounds out across the estuary? They do say there was a yacht or ketch which was caught in a storm many, many years ago, the Amis Reunis she was. She was swept away by strong winds and currents, capsized and sank they do say, now the wreck lies at the bottom of the estuary. But when the tide do go out, there’s no sign of the wreck, when she sank she must have been sucked down into the depths of the soft, the soft is what we call the sands here abouts, quicksand’s. Now and again when the sands shift, and they do shift tons at a time, the ghostly timbers of the wreck of the Amis Reunis is revealed. Some say she was a trim craft which was used to move slate from the quay along the estuary, but that she was converted into a yacht or ketch. But she aren’t pretty to look upon now, her decks have gone, the timber frames be skeletal, the wheel house rotten, the windows like eyeless sockets as she lies there in her watery grave. And the lighthouse, no-one goes there, no-one dares not at least on long dark stormy nights. And yet graffiti is inscribed on the inside wall. “No.2 is a damned sadist.” “Music makes for a quiet mind,” “a still tongue makes a happy life,” “I am a prisoner here for God’s sake help me,” and “No.18 loves No.52.”

Be seeing you