Your Community Needs You!
It
was one of those mornings when you could be busy doing absolutely nothing. Anyway
that is how it felt to Number 6. He was lying on his brown leather couch,
pencil in hand as he tried to complete The Tally Ho crossword while the Jazz
music of Charlie Parker played on the CD player. A maid in a dark blue dress,
frilly white apron and white sailor’s hat busied herself with a red feather
duster. A flighty young girl with a slim figure and long black hair done up in a
long pony tail.
“Can I make you a cup of coffee or
something?” she asked, toying with her feather duster in a provocative manner.
“I don’t know, can you?” retorted Number 6,
not taking his eyes or mind from the crossword.
“Very witty I’m sure, haven’t you got
anything to do?” asked Number 39, returning to her dusting.
“No, and unlike you I have all day to do it
in” he returned with a smile from behind the broadsheet.
“You usually play chess with the Admiral.”
“Not today.”
“You could go out, the sun’s shining, you
could go for a walk” 39 suggested.
“Did that when I fetched the newspaper.”
“You could go for a swim then.
“I might keep going and not come back!” he
said filling in 5 across.
“You couldn’t swim so far” 39 asked.
‘How far?’ asked Number 6 casually.
“I, I don’t know” answered 39, realising
that she didn’t.
“Then why say it?”
‘It was something to say.”
“Well don’t! You wouldn’t be trying to get
me out of here would you?’
“Why would I want to do that?” asked the
maid dusting his desk.
“I don’t know, but I wish you would leave
me in peace, this crossword is difficult enough!” he told her.
“Haven’t they given you a job of work yet?”
she asked.
“No, I am what they term as being one of
the idle rich.”
“Idle certainly” quipped the maid.
“Now who’s turn is it to be witty?”
“But everyone needs to work” said the maid.
Number 6 reached into the breast pocket of his blazer for something and flashed it at the maid “This has worked perfectly well since the day of its issue.”
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“You’re in lucks way then!” smiled the maid
flirtingly.
Number 6 placed his Admix card back into
the breast pocket.
“But don’t you feel the need to put something back into the community, after all the community looks after you. You don’t work and it seems you don’t care either. There are those who would say that you can’t wait to leave us” said the maid standing over him.
Number 6 put his paper down in frustration, wondering what this flighty maid was getting at “I don’t want to be a social worker or anything, entertaining the old folk isn’t exactly my cup of tea either. I don’t want to be a window cleaner, milkman, painter, and I’m certainly no gardener. They won’t let me do what I do best....”
“What’s that? The maid asked.
“That my dear would be telling! Besides
what has the community ever done for me?”
“You have this cottage, you live
comfortably in beautiful picturesque surroundings. You are looked after, you
have everything you need, and if the contents of your kitchen are anything to
go by, you certainly don’t go hungry. And there’s certainly plenty of drink”
said the maid dusting his collection of half filled non alcoholic gin, whisky
and vodka bottles.
“I like my creature comforts, they make
life here just that little bit more bearable” he said as he watched the maid.
“You have an unlimited credit allowance,
you have no worries to speak of. I’d say they looked after you pretty well
indeed” smiled the maid.
“But
I am a prisoner here, so I would have thought it’s the duty of the community to
look after me.”
“A prisoner with certain privileges it
would seem.”
“Surely you’re not jealous?” asked “Number
6.
“No of course not, but even prisoners have
to work don’t they, stitching mail bags, breaking up rocks and the like.”
“All that went out with Noah and his
‘What about that cup of coffee?” asked the
maid.
“Go on then, on but its only instant” said
Number 6 rising from his couch.
“Then it won’t take a moment
then...will it!”
In the kitchen the hot water was added to
the coffee in two cups, sugar and milk was added to one and stirred. Then both
cups and saucers were carried into the lounge.
“A man like you could do so much for the
community” the maid suggested handing him his cup of coffee.
“Alright I’ll buy it, like what?”
“You could try and get yourself co-opted
onto the Town Council” the maid suggested with a smile.
“Elections, here?” asked Number 6, almost
choking on his coffee.
“Of course, The Village is run
democratically” the maid assured him.
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“Well I have to say that I’ve seen little
evidence to back that up” quipped Number 6.
“Always the sceptical one, I read in
today’s Tally Ho that a seat on the Town Council has become vacant and that
Number 2 and the Committee are busy looking for a likely candidate.”
Number 6 picked up the broadsheet and unfolded it. There was a small heading in the bottom right-hand corner of the page. He read the headline and the short article that accompanied it.
“Co-option Onto
Town Council”
“A vacancy has occurred on your local
Town Council.
Those wishing to be considered for co-option must first be nominated by Number
2. All nominations to be put before the Committee, there to be discussed in committee, and eventually put to, and voted upon by members of the Town
Council of which Number 2 is Chairman. All nominations must be in, in two days
time.”
“You mean you would look to be co-opted
onto the Town Council?” asked the maid in surprise.
“Why not? It was you who suggested that I
should put something back into the community. Well what better way to do it,
than by being a member of the Town Council?” grinned Number 6, sipping his
coffee.
“Well if you’re determined to go through
with it, you’ll have to speak with Number Two. Although in your case he might
take some convincing. Your reasons must be valid otherwise he’ll think you are
simply out for what you can get” returned the maid.
“Isn’t that the way with most councillors?”
“I wouldn’t know, I’m not really politically
minded” retorted the maid.
At that moment the door of ‘6 Private’
opened and there framed in the doorway was the familiar figure of Number 2. He
was a large stout man, in plain double breasted blazer, grey roll necked jersey,
grey trousers, and deck shoes. He had a thin head of hair, and full bushy
beard. An old school scarf was draped over his shoulders, and in his hand a
furled umbrella shooting stick. He smiled jovially and crossed the threshold
into the study.
“Anyone at home?” shouted Number 2, crossing
through into the kitchen, where he found both Number 6 and the maid finishing
their coffee together.
“Ah there you are” said Number 2.
“Where else should I be?” returned Number 6.
The maid shot Number 2 a nervous glance, and putting her still half filled coffee cup down on the draining board made her excuses.
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“Excuse me I have to be going, there’s a new arrival later today and the cottage
isn’t quite ready.”
The maid hurriedly picked up her feather
duster and made a bolt for the already opening door of the cottage. Number 6
watched her go then offered Number 2 a cup of coffee which he declined.
“Tell me don’t you like it here?’
“I can think of better places to be, and
better people to be with” snapped Number 6.
“Don’t you want to settle down, after all
we only want what’s best for you.”
“‘What’s best for you, you mean. You bring people here, take what you want, destroy
their minds and at the end of the day you either release them into the
community which couldn’t give a damn about them, then when they grow old retire
them into the Old People’s Home, there to vegetate for the rest of their
lives.”
“But we look after them, for as long as
they live, surely you have to agree with that. Look at you, you’ve not done so
bad by the community have you?”
“Yes, it’s all nice and democratic, but the
trouble with democracy is that there is no true democracy, someone has to be in
charge and take the flack when it’s flying” barked Number 6 loudly.
“That is not the way a nominated candidate
should talk.”
“It’s the way I am. I simply tell it like
it is. Am I?”
“Are you what?”
“Nominated?”
“Not yet, it all depends’ retorted Number
2, adding milk and one sugar to his coffee.
“Depends on what?”
“Why you, of course” returned Number 2 with
a knowing smile.
“Now
whose game am I playing here, no don’t tell me she’s one of yours.”
“Who?” replied Number 2 coyly.
“The maid. After all it was she who
suggested that I do something for the community. That I seek to be co-opted
onto the Town Council.”
“The maid did, well I am gratified by
her confidence in you. But no she is not one of ours whatever you may think.
She was a personal assistant to a certain parliamentary private secretary to a
government minister, and was about to become a whistle blower by making a
certain ministerial document public. It would have been a very messy business
had she not been brought here, now she wouldn’t leave for the world.”
“Not
that she ever could!” quipped Number 6.
“She is being of use to the community
simply by doing her job. Don’t tell me that you of all people are considering
doing your civic duty to the community by wanting to be co-opted onto the Town
Council?” asked Number 2 sceptically.
“I might. I’ve time on my hands.”
“Really? You usually fill yours by either trying to escape, or go
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about
poking your nose in where it has no concern. Yet I find I have to applaud this
new found community spirit in you. I suppose it might be possible, under the
flag of “special purposes,” or perhaps you have a certain expertise to offer. What
have you to offer Number Six?”
“I’m an expert in my field.”
“As a secret agent.”
“I’m at my best when working under
pressure. In dealing with dangerous and difficult situations I’m the best. In
dealing with unknown situations I’m told I’m unique!”
“What good it that to us here?”
“I suppose I have resisted for too
long. Not that I am about to roll over and play dead, that day you will never
see. But perhaps there is an element of truth in the words spoken by Number
Thirty-nine. Perhaps it is time I give something back to the community. As for
the Council, I would be a new injection of drive and enthusiasm, cutting
through the red tape and getting things
working more smoothly and efficiently” returned Number 6 eagerly.
‘And that would be you would it? How do I
know you’re just telling me what I want to hear? You might conspire to bring
down the system from within.”
“You could do worse. Besides it takes a
show of bravery to co-opt a man that is not in accord with his contemporaries”
smiled Number 6, throwing out the challenge.
Number 2 thought for a moment, churning the
idea over in his mind, weighing up the possibilities “You mean keep ones
friends close, and enemies even closer? I could nominate you, then the
nomination has to go through Committee, and then finally the members of the
Town Council have to vote whether you are to be co-opted onto the Council or
not.”
“You mean it’s possible?” asked Number 6,
trying not to sound over keen.
“In theory.”
“In practise?”
“In practise yes, but you are out spoken
and seem to care little for the citizens of this community, and you do, to use
your own words, “tell it like it is.” Having said that, it might just be
possible that the Town Council could use a man of your calibre, and they could
do with
a
bit of a shake up. I should know in my capacity as Chairman of the Town Council.”
“So you will nominate me?”
“My dear chap nothing would give me greater
pleasure” returned Number 2 with a broad smile “by the way what are your
politics?”
“I
haven’t got any” returned Number 6 without thinking.
“Well don’t you think you had better adopt
some? The Committee is bound to ask you your politics, along with your reasons to
be considered” returned Number 2, getting Number 6’s mind off what he was about
to say.
Before Number 6 knew where he was, Number 2
had turned and was heading out of the door.
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“I’ll be seeing you later on” saluted Number
2 with thumb and first finger.
He returned the said salute in his usual mocking manner, the door already half closed.
The
next morning Number 6 was an early riser. It was just as well for as he emerged
out of the bathroom the blue telephone on the table began to bleep. Crossing
the lounge still dressed in his blue pyjamas and burgundy dressing gown he
picked up the receiver.
“Good morning, good morning, any complaints?”
asked the voice of Number 2, his face appearing on the television screen.
Number 6 spun round in surprise to face the
man on the screen “Several but you wouldn’t be interested in hearing them!”
“Don’t be like that my dear fellow, I’ve
just phoned to tell you that your nomination was accepted at yesterday’s
meeting of the Town Council.”
“Will
they deal with my complaints?” barked Number 6.
“If you are successfully co-opted onto the
Town Council I think that I can safely say that any complaints that you may
have will no longer be a matter for you to take up” returned Number 2.
“What’s the procedure?”
“You will be expected to attend the next
meeting of the Committee at the Town Hall in an hour’s time” Number 2 informed
him.
“Committee?”
“You will be expected to explain to the Committee
exactly your reasons for wanting to be co-opted onto the Town Council. If satisfied
your nomination with be officially adopted, and eventually voted on by the
members of the Town Council. But I warn you there will be stiff competition
from your opponent, there only being one vacancy on the Council. Number Thirty-nine
has also asked to be nominated” Number 2 explained.
“She........anything else?” Number 6 asked.
“No, not until the Committee hearing this
morning at the Town Hall.”
The telephone went dead and Number 2’s face disappeared from the television screen.
Later that morning the door bell of ‘6 Private’ rang and Number 6 opened the door to find a young woman dressed in white slacks, a red and white striped jersey and white sailor’s hat standing there.
“Yes?” he asked.
“I’m here to drive you to the Town Hall,
you are expected there in ten minutes” smiled Number 21.
“Fine, let’s go” said Number 6 following
the girl to the waiting taxi.
The white taxi with its candy striped
canopy set off along the street and was driven slowly around The Village, and
by what Number 6 took to be the scenic route!
“You
did say that I was due at the Town hall in ten minutes.”
The taxi driver just smiled.
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“It might be quicker if you let me out here,
so that I could walk the rest of the way!” Number 6 suggested as they drove
along the same street again, but in the other direction.
The taxi driver smiled as she continued the
journey.
“I take
it that you know where the Town Hall is?”
“Of course” Number 21 smiled.
“It’s just that we haven’t arrived yet, and
the Town Hall isn’t two minutes walk from my cottage. And that’s the second
time we have passed the café and from two different directions!”
The taxi driver drove round the corner at
the end of the road, up the street, into the cobbled square, through an
archway, and left down a cobbled lane. The taxi drove round a water fountain
then passed the statue of Hercules and pink pavilion. The Town Hall was
straight ahead, Number 6 could see it through the pair of turquoise wrought
iron gates.
“There’s the Town Hall, just through those
gates” observed Number 6.
“I can’t drive through those gates, there
are steps. I’ll have to drive round!” the driver said.
“Then stop here and let me out.”
Much to the astonishment of the driver,
Number 6 suddenly pulled on the hand brake bringing the taxi to a sudden stop.
“Thank you but I’ll walk from here” he said
leaping out of the taxi and dashing up the steps towards the pair of open gates
The taxi driver released the hand brake and
drove off down a short narrow lane and turned right in the direction of the
Town Hall. Number 6 walked up the steps, through the open turquoise gates, and
crossing the road paused at the steps of the large porch of the Town Hall as two
Top Hat officials dressed in black suits, white shirts, black gloves, over-coats,
top hats and dark glasses passed him and into the Town Hall. He turned to see
his taxi pull up outside.
“I’ll wait for you” the driver smiled.
Number 6 turned, and mounting the steps finally
entered the Town Hall, this time there was no electrical force field to stop
him. Once inside the foyer he instantly recognised where he was, all fresh and
totally redecorated, yet keeping the same style as well as fixtures, furnishing,
and decorations. Walking around the round oak table he approached the foot of
the stairs.
“That’s not the way” announced a
disembodied voice.
Turning away from the stairs Number 6
walked to the pair of doors.
‘Nor that way either, that’s right straight
ahead” said the voice.
Number 6 approached a pair of French glass
doors and pulled them open, passing through and standing at the top of steep
stairs leading down onto the floor of the Council Chamber. He slowly descended
the steel steps, at the foot of which stood the figure of the butler. The wall
of the circular chamber was decorated in orange and purple colours, from which
was suspended a large black disc with a large white
Penny Farthing painted on it. There was also a large grey abstract high backed chair with steps on either side. In the centre of the chamber, sat round an open circle of green baize topped tables, was the figure of Number 2 and his fellow Committee members.
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“If you would sit down in the vacant chair
Number Six” said the butler
In the centre of the open circle of tables
was a leather chair. Number 6 slowly walked forward, taking in both the chamber
and the twelve members of the committee each dressed in black trousers, various
striped jerseys and black top hats. The butler pushed the small control consul
out of the gap in the circle of tables and switched it on. As he took his seat,
the butler pushed a curved table forward in order to close the circle of
tables.
“It may interest you that not only have I
been in the Town Hall before, but in this very chamber” said Number 6, turning
his chair and looking at each Committee member in turn.
“When was that?” asked Number 2.
“Some little time ago now. I see that you
have had the builders and decorators in since. It looks so much better, and you
have maintained both the style and colour that’s a nice touch” quipped Number 6
turning back to face Number 2.
“You approve?”
“It’s not for me to approve or disapprove.”
“You’ve got that right” Number 2
said.
“Should you be accepted and co-opted onto
the Town Council” began Number 2 “you have the opportunity to reach a position
of high standing within the community, to stand tall beside your contemporises
and the chance to introduce change within the community.”
“Thank you Number Two” said the Chairman-Number
38, a top hat perched on his head and spectacles on the end of his nose “we
received your nomination for Number Six’s co-option onto the Town Council,
which we thank him for. I take it that no-one on this Committee has any
objections?”
No-one spoke, each face of the Committee member
remained silent, the expression on each face impassive. Suddenly all the lights
went out, rendering the Council Chamber into pitch blackness. And in an instant
the light came back on, and both Number 2 and the butler had departed the
chamber, leaving Number 6 alone with the Committee.
“Number Six you will now be given the chance
to state your qualifications for your co-option onto the Town Council. If we
find those reasons valid, you will then go before the Town Council, and they
will vote.”
“Any questions?” asked Number 6 sharply.
“Of course, but I must remind you that
everything which you say is being recorded” returned the Chairman.
“What about Number Thirty-nine?” barked Number 6.
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“We are not here to discuss Number
Thirty-nine. Her time will come as yours has done. For the moment we are merely
interested in you Number Six, and in particular your reasons for wanting co-option.”
returned the Chairman.
Number 6 sat silent in his chair twiddling
his thumbs as he thought and considered.
“Well Number Six?” prompted the Chairman.
“In the time I have been here in The Village,
I have found it difficult to adjust and settle down. I found life here restricting
and so I began to lose purpose. However I have come to realise that I have been
guilty of allowing the community to look after my welfare at no cost to myself.
If one simply takes from the community without putting something back, where
will the community end up? I feel it is time to give something back to the
community which has looked after me so approvingly and completely” he stated as
clearly and resolutely as he could.
“Very commendable Number Six, but how are we
to know that you are not seeking to be co-opted onto the Council, just so that
you can bring about change within the system, indeed to bring about the system’s
downfall from within? Your record shows that in the past you have been aggressive,
you have resisted the community that has looked after you so well. You have
interfered in the affairs of Number Two, you have attempted to escape, and
blatantly refused to accept your situation and settle down. Yet here you sit
before the committee, and expect us to take what you say at face value when it
is clear that in the past you have not cared one Penny Farthing for the community
of which you are a part.”
“That’s the trouble, I have been apart for
too long, and there is always room for change, because as we all know, if things
do not change they will stay as they are” returned Number 6, in hope that this
is what the Committee wanted to hear.
The Committee members applauded as one man
at hearing this
statement
from the candidate.
“That is as maybe Number Six, but what this
Committee wants to know is, what are your politics?” the Chairman asked.
“I believe in the freedom of speech, in the
democratic process, for without democracy chaos reigns. That everyone has the
right to vote and that not to exercise that right, is flying in the face of
democracy and the democratic process as a whole. I don’t like secrets, I
believe in openness and loyalty. In my experience most council members are only
out for themselves, and care little for the community they represent…..and that
the majority of right thinking people are wrong, and that history should be
consigned to the past, and that the only thing that stands between The Village,
its community, and success, is defeat. For The Village and its community the
future lies ahead!”
The Committee members remained unmoved by
Number 6’s words.
“An excellent speech Number Six, you are a most admirable candidate. Indeed it has been some time since the committee has heard such refreshing words as yours echoing around the Council Chamber. The Town Council is in need of someone who is not afraid to say the things that need to be said. Someone who is prepared to stand up and speak his mind. I think that you will give Number Thirty-nine something of a run for her money. Now all that remains is for the Council members to decide” returned the Chairman, accompanied by the applause from his fellow Committee members. “Gentlemen it’s time…. I think we are all more than ready for a tea break” announced the Chairman.
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The Chairman banged his gavel and with it
the Council Chamber was once again plunged into darkness. And when the lights
came up again a few moments later, Number 6 found himself sitting alone in the
chamber. He rose up out of his chair and pushing a segment of the baize round
table away, stormed up the steel steps, out of the Council Chamber and into the
foyer of the Town Hall where citizens sat waiting, but stood up and applauded Number
6, his words being spoken through a black loudspeaker set upon a rostrum.
“The
majority of right thinking people are wrong, and that history should be
consigned to the past, and that the only thing that stands between The Village,
its community, and success, is defeat. For The Village and its community the
future lies ahead!”
Outside a crowd of citizens had gathered
and cheered him as he emerged from inside the Town Hall. A taxi was waiting
just along the street for him, but he stood on the steps of the Town Hall for a
few
moments acknowledging the cheering citizens. A reporter and photographer had
been waiting for their chance of a picture and a first interview with Number 6.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Number
One-two-one and this is my photographic colleague Number One-two-one-b, we
contribute to The Tally Ho you know” began the reporter
“No I didn’t know!” said Number 6 climbing
aboard his waiting Taxi, the engine starting.
“Why did you seek nomination to be co-opted
onto the Town Council?”
“Smile” said the photographer with a click
of his camera.
“I have nothing to say” returned Number 6
as he climbed into the taxi.
Number 121 stood by the taxi and made a
note on the writing pad in his hand “To make change for the better. How do you
stand on exports and imports?”
“It’s a fair trade!” Number 6 replied with
a smile.
Number 121b continued to take photographs.
“What will first motivate you if you are
co-opted?”
“I shall increase the dividend!”
“To make the Council more efficient, more
accountable to the people, as well as cutting out so much red tape” noted the
reporter.
“What will your primary objective
be?”
“Smile” said the photographer with another
click of his camera.
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“I think town-twinning is the way ahead. I
intend to twin The Village with say…..
“I’ve nothing to say!” noted the reporter.
“Drive on” ordered Number 6.
“Where to?” asked Number 21.
“Central Office of course” returned Number
6 seriously.
“Where’s that?”
“My cottage!” replied Number 6 with a wry
smile
The taxi driver pressed down on the accelerator and drove slowly through The Village, oblivious to the citizens.
That night as Number 6 was settling down
for a good night’s sleep, an elderly maid placed his night cap of hot chocolate
upon the bedside table. He emerged from the bathroom in his blue pyjamas and
striped dressing gown. A gentle lullaby was playing through the black
loudspeaker.
“Drink it while it’s hot, it’s good for
you” the maid told him as he emerged from the bathroom.
“Good for someone” Number 6 he replied.
“Be seeing you” saluted the maid with thumb
and fore finger.
Number 6 entered the bedroom and sat on the
edge of his bed. He picked up the cup of hot chocolate and began to sip the hot
liquid as the day’s events went through his head. Something didn’t feel right.
It had all the feeling of a put up job. There was Number 39’s suggestion that
he seek Number 2’s nomination to be co-opted onto the Town Council. Then Number
2’s readily acceptance to nominate him to the Committee. And the Committee, all
too easily convinced by his reasons for co-option as a Town Councillor, after
all they had read his file. Perhaps they were under orders from Number 2, or
perhaps some other higher authority….. Number 1 would be favourite. And what’s Number
39 about, what’s her game? Suggesting that he should give back something to the
community by looking to be co-opted onto the Town Council, only to find out
that she has also been nominated by Number 2! What has she to gain? The cup drained
of its contents Number 6 took off his dressing gown and climbed into bed. As
soon as his head touched the pillow he was asleep, unconscious to the world. Suspended
above the bed from the ceiling, the light shade began to slowly descend until it
was just above the slumbering face of Number 6. Its light pulsating and a quiet
hypnotic hum, deepening the sleep of Number 6.
In the Control Room Number 2 and the night
time Supervisor-
Number
283 a grey-haired Caribbean gentleman, were standing watching the slumbering Number
6 upon the wall screen.
“Be careful, we mustn’t damage the tissue,
not just yet anyway!” said Number 2.
“I don’t see why we have to go to so much
trouble. After all he’ll soon have peace of mind once he’s co-opted onto the
Council” 283 suggested.
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Number 2 rubbed his hands together with
glee “We have to give him a certain amount of satisfaction, after all there is
the democratic process which has to be observed.”
“I realise that sir. But why not simply put
him in his place and have done with it?” asked the Supervisor.
“I have every intention of doing just that”
smiled Number 2.
“I was sure that a man of his calibre, The
Village would have found a use for him” retorted the Supervisor.
“It will do, once he’s co-opted onto the
Town Council. Number 6 will then be in our back pocket and of no further
trouble to anyone” smirked Number 2, with a feeling of self satisfaction.
Number 2 turned away from the screen and
began walking up the steel steps onto the gantry.
“Take care of our friend, he has a busy day
tomorrow.”
“I will. Goodnight sir” saluted the Supervisor.
“Be seeing you” returned Number 2 as the
pair of steel doors closed behind him.
An Observer swivelled round in his chair away
from the monitor he had been watching
“Supervisor, Number Eight breaking curfew.”
“Put up camera thirty-six, night vision and
sound” ordered the Supervisor.
There on the green night vision screen, a
darkened image could be seen running along the foot of the cliffs, he was
heading for the Outer Zone. The Supervisor continued to watch the screen as he
picked up an ‘L’ shaped telephone and ordered “Attention all units, all posts,
orange alert, orange alert.”
From somewhere below the sea the white amorphous mass of the Guardian was released, contorted by water pressure as it rose up from the depths to suddenly burst through the surface, skimming over the waves in the direction of its latest prey. From that moment, the fate of the escaping Number 8 was sealed, it would be a terrifying and terrible death for her.
The next day saw Number 6 out and about The
Village. Citizens going about their daily lives, some were interested to know
Number 6’s intentions should he be co-opted onto the Town Council. He visited
them at their places of work, the Café, the General Store, the Job Centre,
Citizens Advice Bureau and various kiosks dotted around The Village. He chatted
with painters and gardeners, all of whom appeared totally disinterested! Upon
his visit to the Old People’s Home, he shook hands, drank tea and promised free
public transport for the elderly. There wasn’t really the need, but Number 6
felt urged to make a spontaneous speech.
“Good people of the community, fellow
citizens. I stand before you today a candidate for co-option onto your Local
Town Council” he began “since my arrival here I have fought against and
resisted both The Village and its community. But that has been a mistake. And
since realising what the welfare of this community has done for me, I fully
intend to repay its administration.”
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The people promenading, and generally
enjoying themselves in the Piazza didn’t seem to be taking any notice of Number
6, that’s because they weren’t.
“My opponent Number Thirty-nine may be well
established in The Village and no doubt some of you may know her personally,
and she might think that she knows what its community, indeed you, its
citizens, need. She may tell you that you are better off with things as they
are, but let me tell you this, if things here in our
fine
community do not change they will remain the same!”
Number 6 looked down on the people in
the Piazza, his speech having fallen on deaf ears gave it up as a bad job, and
returned to his cottage.
“You know” said Number 73 to the lady sat
next to him on a bench “he certainly makes you think doesn’t he?”
Returning to his cottage along the path, Number
6 approached a dispensing device for The Tally Ho broadsheet newspaper. A
strange device consisting of a wooden frame with a candy striped canopy,
situated underneath a pair of rollers and box unit at the bottom. To one side
was a large handle, which when operated dispensed a copy of the latest issue of
The Tally Ho.
“Good morning sir, copy of The Tally Ho,
certainly sir” said Number 113c turning the handle and tearing off the copy and
handing it to Number 6 “That will be two Units if you please sir.”
Number 6 took his Admix card from the breast
pocket of his blazer and handed it to the man, who waved it over the small
debit machine and handed it back.
As he strolled along the path towards his cottage, he read the headline and part of the accompanying article.
No.6 Tells It
Like It Is!
by our own reporter
“The security and welfare of our community is my prime concern. I have every confidence of being co-opted onto the Town Council and I am sure that the community and I can work closely together for the improvement of The Village, to make it safer and more secure for it’s citizens. I believe not only in the right of the individual, but also in the democratic process of this our fine community, for the right of every true citizen to make up their own minds and to use their vote wisely, to vote for the right candidate. Remember if things do not change, they will remain the same, for both The Village and its community. The future lies ahead!”
Upon entering his cottage Number 6 found Number
2 waiting for him, an old school scarf about his neck and carrying a furled
umbrella shooting stick.
“Been waiting long?” asked Number 6 finding
Number 2 in the lounge.
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“There was no need for that spontaneous
ad-hoc speech you know. After all no-one was listening.”
“Why?”
“Because the citizens don’t care
about the council and its business!”
“They should!”
“Very commendable.”
“Its all seems to be very one sided at the
moment, there’s no sign of my opponent, too afraid to come out and face me on
the hustings is she?” said Number 6 switching on the kettle “you will take
tea?”
“Please. I’m afraid you have the wrong end
of the stick my friend, the good citizens are not interested in the workings of
the Town Council.”
“So have you, and I’m not your friend” he
said taking two cups and saucers from the cupboard.
“Don’t be like that, and after I went to
all the trouble in your nomination.”
Number 6 switched off the kettle,
poured boiling water into the little brown teapot, swilled it out. Then added
tea from the tea caddy spooned tea into the pot “One for me, one for you, and
one for the pot” then poured in boiling water, and replaced the lid.
“No hustings my dear chap, and there
really isn’t the need for you to go out and about meeting the people and making
speeches. You’re not up for election, only for co-option, there’s a difference
you know.”
“It’s a put up job!”
Number 2’s expression changed “How do
you work that out?”
“The article in The Tally Ho, it was
printed in advance!”
“That’s the press for you!”
“Sugar?”
“Two lumps” Number 2 said.
Number 6 added sugar and milk to the two
cups while he allowed the tea to brew.
“Perhaps they just recognise a good man
when they see one” Number 2 said brandishing his own copy of The Tally Ho.
Number 2 watched Number 6 pour out two cups
of steaming hot tea, and handed a cup and saucer to his guest.
“I shouldn’t have thought that being
co-opted onto the Town
Council
warranted a newspaper story” Number 6 remarked sipping
his
tea.
“Any story warrants a newspaper
article, in a small Village such as this. There’s little enough news as it is,
and yet there is always something going on” Number 2 replied stirring his tea.
“The trouble with the press is, they like
nothing better than building a chap up, only so they can take great delight in
knocking him down!”
“That’s just the cynic in you coming out”
Number 2 told him, and he drank his tea.
“Life here in The Village has made me so”
returned Number 6 putting his cup down.
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Number 2 finishing his tea walked from the
kitchen through into the study. Number 2 paused at the opening front door.
“Nice chatting with you Number Six, but I
have to be going. A meeting of the Committee you understand, work never stops
does it? Toodle-oo!” said Number 2 with a casual wave of his shooting stick.
That night Number 6 sat on the edge of his
bed as the maid brought him his night cap of hot chocolate which she placed on
the bedside table.
“Goodnight sir.”
“Goodnight.”
“You were quick to take my advice I see” Number
39 smiled.
“And YOU kept it quiet!”
“There might be only one vacancy on the
Council, but they like to have at least two nominations” she told him.
“Number 2 is playing a double handed game!”
“How can you say that? I’ve hardly been in
the public eye, it’s all been about you.
I’m sure your being co-opted onto the Town Council will be merely a formality”
she told him.
“That would hardly be democratic would it
now.”
“Democracy, in this place? Everyone is out
for what they can get” she told him.
“And what did you get?” Number 6 sneered.
“All I was doing was my job, I merely
pointed you in the right direction, that’s all” she said descending the Town
Hall steps “Goodbye Number Two b, or not two be, that is the question.”
“Ah there you are Number Six, or perhaps I
should say Two b” said a familiar voice “allow me to escort you into the
Council Chamber.”
Number
6 was startled for a moment “Number what?”
“Number Two-b, you are to be a sub-divided
Number 2. That is how you will be known from this time on, and during your long
term on
the
Town Council. Come with me. As Chairman of the Town Council it falls to me to
introduce you to your fellow councillors” Number 2 said leading the way into
the Town Hall.
In
the foyer Number 2 and Number 2b met with the members of the steering Committee.
The Chairman of the Committee approached Number
2 “Are you going into the Council Chamber?”
“Yes” Number 2 said.
“And Number Six?”
“You mean Number 2b” said Number 2.
The committee Chairman looked nervously at
Number 2 “Aren’t you jumping the gun somewhat, the vote hasn’t taken place yet.”
“I need hardly reminding of that,
seeing as I am Chairman of the Town
Council” said Number 2 sternly.
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“Its improper etiquette for a nominee
to be brought before the Council before the vote has taken place” the Committee
Chairman argued.
“Nonsense, it’s a forgone conclusion any
fool can see that, besides Number Thirty-nine has decided to stand down!”
uttered Number 2 brusquely brushing the Committee Chairman out of his way.
Number 2 could not hide his annoyance, but
felt that it would make no difference to the final outcome as he lead Number 6
through the open French doors, through the opening steel doors and down the steel
stairs onto the floor of the Council Chamber. It was the same large chamber as
used by the Committee, its orange and purple walls and large black circle with
a white Penny Farthing hung on the wall. Number 2 walked round and up the steps
to the large grey abstract chair, a blue light set into the pointed back of the
chair began to flash intermittently. In the centre of the chamber floor was a
round podium with a rostrum set upon it.
“Please stand on the centre disc Number
Six” said Number 2, taking his own seat.
Number 6 stepped slowly forward onto the
podium Set in a circle were 12 rostrums, each of which was denoted by
subdivided number 2a 2b 2c 2d 2e 2f 2g
2h 2i 2j 2k 2l. Standing at each of the rostrums, except for the vacant 2b, was
a Town Councillor each wearing a black badge with a white Penny Farthing and
red numeral set upon it and dressed in varying striped jerseys, black trousers,
black top hats and deck shoes. He turned to each of the Council members in turn
and studied their faces, each wore a blank expression. Eyes stared straight
ahead, dull and lifeless. Not one of the Council members spoke, not one of them
moved, it was doubtful to Number 6 that any of them could think. But one thing
was now painfully clear, he was destined to become one of their number!
“I might have guessed. Where did you get
this bunch of brain-dead morons?”
“Strangely enough they form the ‘collective
Two.’ You might wish to question them.” offered the Chairman.
“I
would if I thought that they could answer!” barked Number 6.
“Number Six stands before you, nominated by
me to be co-opted onto the local Town Council, the nomination is carried
unanimously” Number 2 picked up and banged a gavel once “all that remains is
for Number Two-b to officially take his position at the rostrum.”
Number 2b didn’t move, he just looked at each
of the Councillors in turn.
“Number Two-b it is time you officially
took your rightful place upon the Council” urged Number 2 “as you can see your
rostrum is waiting together with a change of clothes. Trousers, striped jersey,
and
a black Top Hat.”
“What join this bunch of brainless imbeciles, get yourself another co-operative!” barked Number 6, his voice echoing around the chamber wall.
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“Not join, become” stated Number 2.
At which point the Committee Chairman
appeared at the top of the steel stairs.
“What is the meaning of this intrusion? Number
2b is about to take his position upon the Council” barked Number 2.
“That cannot be allowed to happen” said the
Committee Chairman.
Number 2 stood up and flew into a wild rage
“What, what do you mean it cannot be allowed. Who are you to……”
Suddenly the room was filled by the
cool blue light. Number 2 turned round to look directly into the light
emanating from the eye in the abstract chair behind him. There came a loud
piercing sound.
“Yes of course………yes I do realise………a
substitute must be found.”
Suddenly the light dimmed, and the sound
ceased. And picking up a gavel Number 2 banged it once, ready as he was to make
an announcement.
“There has been a marked error in
judgement. Number Six’s co-option onto the Town Council is null and void.
Please stand down Number Six.”
Number 6 stood down from the podium.
“A substitute must be found” Number 2
announced.
“No sooner said than done” said
Number 38 the Committee Chairman.
At that point the pair of steel doors to
the left of the stairs slid open. Two medics in white attire emerged through
the door. Between them was a third figure, that of Number 39. The two medics
slowly escorted the figure of Number 39 forward to take her place upon the
vacant rostrum of 2b. She was now dressed in an orange and white striped
jersey, black slacks, canvas shoes and a black top hat. Number 2 stepped
forward, removed the 2b badge from the lapel of Number 6’s blazer, and pinned
the Penny Farthing badge onto the former 39’s striped jersey. There was a dead,
blank staring expression upon her face, the same blank staring expression as that
of her Council colleagues. Numbers 6 and 2 looked on in shocked silence as the
newly elected 2b now stood at her rostrum, staring straight ahead, unmoving,
unthinking. There being no further business at this time, the meeting of the
Town Council was unanimously closed with a bang of the Chairman’s gavel.
back
to the confines of his cottage. Two gardeners were busy working in a flower bed
“Who was that?” asked Number 52 watching the man pass by the statue of Hercules
with the world upon his shoulders.
“How should I know. Are you going to fetch
those plants or not?” asked Number 18, busy with his trowel.
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Number 6 walked up stone steps and along the path, the door of his cottage opening automatically for him. How often it is that yesterday’s Mr Everyman is today’s Mr Nobody!
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