Chapter 2
A New No.2
No.6
is taken back along the same passage way which had led to the Embryo Room only
the week before. Standing on the dais the supervisor and No.6 were raised up
through the ceiling and up through the floor into the purpled wall chamber of
the Green Dome. The butler also raised up through the floor, stepping off the
disc he made his way across the floor, up the ramp, and out though the opening
pair of steel doors watched by No.6. From a blazer pocket the supervisor
produced a white badge and pinned it on a lapel of the now permanent No.2’s
piped blazer, then picked up the red ‘L’ shaped telephone handing it to No.2.
“It will be for you.”
The pair of steel doors opened and the diminutive
butler returned wheeling the breakfast trolley down the ramp. He approaches the
desk, watched by No.2 and the supervisor, and presses two buttons on the
control panel of the desk. A disc in the floor slides away and a small table rises
up through the hole in the floor, upon which he sets out the tea things for the
new interim No.2’s elevenses. And a black global chair rises up behind the grey
curved desk. In the chair an umbrella shooting stick, and draped over it the
old college scarf.
“I shall leave you to your inner
sanctum sir” the bald-headed spectacled supervisor said “if you want to know
anything just press a button.”
“No time for tea?”
“Tea, no thank you.”
The steel doors slid open, the
supervisor paused at the top of the ramp and looked back “I’ll be seeing you.”
The butler looked up at his new
master, who looked down upon him the expression on 2’s face was that of a lost
child wondering what to do
next. The butler bowed and wheeled his trolley across the floor, up the ramp
and through the opening doors. No.2 looked at the telephone held in his hand,
he pressed the chrome square button on the telephone “Number 2 here………..your
ways and means are somewhat on the brutal side, did it have to be like
that?.........but why? Because it had to be one or the other…………..he was a good
man but if you got me you thought I would be better, is that it?.........And
YOU think that makes it right?....................He didn’t deserve to die like
that...........was it the drink?..............Any more questions……….yes I have
one, when do I leave?......................
The new interim No.2 sat in the black global chair pressing a variety of buttons on the control panel of the desk. A number of views of the village were brought up on the large wall screen, the interior of the control room appeared on the screen and the council chamber, then the swimming pool, the Old People’s Home.
6
The pair of blast proof steel doors
slid open and the tall fair-haired figure of No.21 of administration walked
smartly down the ramp, the steel doors closing behind him, and approached the
grey desk.
No.2 looked up at the man now standing at
his desk “What do you want?”
“To help sir, I’m assigned as your
assistant. Shall I be mother?” he asked, and began to pour out two cups of tea.
“No-one mentioned you!”
No.21 added milk and sugar to both
cups, and gave an awkward smile “Nevertheless here I am sir” he said offering
his superior cup and saucer.
“Well you can go away again!” No.2
told him taking his cup and saucer.
“I shouldn’t take that attitude if I
were you.”
“But you’re not me!”
“I realise that sir, but there may
come a time when you’ll need all the friends you can get. And speaking of
friends, I take it you are attending the funeral this afternoon.”
“Funeral?” No.2 asked stirring his
tea.
“Of your predecessor” No.21 said
drinking his tea.
“I don’t know, should I?”
“You became friends.”
“Hardly that” No.2 said drinking his
tea.
“Comrades in the common struggle.”
“Certainly not!”
“Two men locked together in the same
struggle. He died while you succeeded.”
“He brought it on himself.”
“He hardly had a choice in the
matter.”
“What time is the funeral?”
“
“And the helicopter?”
“Helicopter sir?”
“Yes the helicopter, when does that
arrive?”
“Two o’clock sir as usual” his
assistant replied.
“I have to go out” No.2 informed his
assistant, placing his cup and saucer on the desk.
“There is an administrative meeting
in three quarters of an hour sir, which you should attend being Chairman.”
“Plenty of time, I’m just going to
the Round House to collect a few personal things.”
“That won’t be necessary sir.”
“What do you mean, are you
questioning my authority Number 21?”
“No sir, not at all” 21 replied “It’s
just that your personal possessions have been removed, and the Round House
emptied, and
is
already being restructured inside in readiness for its new occupant.”
“I see.”
“You do see. I will have your personal possessions brought to you, and your administrative uniform delivered in readiness for the meeting sir, in any case you’ll need it for the funeral this afternoon. And if I may suggest sir.”
7
“Yes” No.2 said calmly.
“A change of uniform sir, your
present attire is hardly becoming to a man in your situation.”
There came a far away looking in No.2’s
eyes as though he was trying to remember “I recall one of my predecessors
wearing this uniform, on my second day here.
“Yes, and see how long he lasted!”
No.21 quipped.
“What do you suggest?”
“A grey polo neck jersey, light grey
flannel trousers, and a clean cut single
breasted plain blazer. If that’s all sir.”
“Yes.”
“Be seeing you” No.21 smartly
saluted, then turned smartly on his heels and walked across the floor, up the
ramp and out through the opening steel doors. The interim No.2 poured himself a
second cup of tea; it would seem his new position was a fait accompli leaving
him with no option but to accept it…………for the time being.
About an hour later No.21, now dressed in
black Top Hat, and overcoat returned with a change of clothes for No.2, consisting
of Top Hat, black suit, overcoat, tie, white shirt and black shoes. Together
they made their way down to the underground tunnels and along to the Town Hall.
The new No.2 was shown along a corridor which he recognized, and into a room
which would become his living quarters.
“Don’t I get a cottage?” No.2 asked.
“A cottage, don’t be daft, this is
where you live now.”
The room had been redecorated and
refurnished several times since he was last in it. Now it was decorated out as
his own study, and draped over one armchair was the uniform of No.2.
“We do our best to make each
incumbent Number 2 at home. Now if you will get changed Number 2 we have a
meeting to attend in a few minutes.
Making their way along an underground
passageway they arrived at a pair of doors marked ADMINISTRATION. Two Snowdrop
military policemen in white helmets, gloves, boots and grey overalls stood
either side. No.21 flashed his identity at one of the guards and passed through
the opening doors. No.2 made to follow but suddenly a guard raised his white
truncheon and pressed it against No.2’s chest effectively stopping from
entering the chamber.
“He wants to see your identity card” No.21
said.
“But I’m Number Two” he said tapping
the white badge on his lapel.
“Anyone can wear a badge, he probably
remembers you from that time during the Speed Learn experiment, he was one of
the guards you attacked!”
No.2 rummaged in the pockets of his
overcoat, he found an identity card, showed it to the security guard, and satisfied,
the truncheon was removed from his chest allowing egress into the chamber.
8
The pair of doors closed and No.2 found
himself in a large orange walled domed chamber. There was a large round baize
topped doughnut shaped table made up of nine curved segments at which seven
administrators sat, there were also two vacant chairs. No.2’s attention was
taken by the almost Masonic looking highchair with its blue all seeing eye, and
yet with its sharp pointed lines and “dazzle” effect paintwork gave it the
impression of German expressionist films of the 1920's. There was a set of
steps either side leading up to the chair, No.2 walked towards them watched
closely by the seven members of administration, but before he could put a foot
on the first step No.21 took No.2 by the arm and led him to a chair at the
table and sat him and himself down.
“Gentlemen, I’m sure you will join me
in welcoming our new Chief Administrator to this committee.”
This brought about a round of applause
from the committee members. No.21 said unzipping his black leather document
case and removing two sheets of paper and rising out of his chair “I’m sure
this will not take long, so with your permission Number Two……”
No.2 simply waved a hand.
“There is a question which must be
ratified.”
“Questions are a burden to others”
No.2 said.
All eyes turned upon the Chief
Administrator.
“……….answers a prison for oneself” he
added.”
“Well quite” said No.21.
“I have a question” No.2 said.
Some of the seven top hat administers
lowered and shook their heads.
“What is your question?” 21 asked.
“Being the new boy, could someone
explain how this works?” No.2 asked.
“Being Chief Administrator means you
are responsible for the decisions we make” 21 began “generally on a day to day
footing the administration runs itself as well as the Village. However from
time to time situations arise which require such meetings as these, in this
particular instance the ratification of the question as to whether or not a set
of stocks or pillory should be placed in the square.”
“Stocks, you want to put stocks in
the village square?”
“And a pillory” 21 added.
“Why?” No.2 said.
“But what better way to bring a
recalcitrant citizen or citizens to heel, when other methods have failed, but
by a spell in the stocks to be ridiculed, pilloried, and pelted with rotten
fruit and veg by their fellow citizens. The humiliation for the victim would be
intolerable!”
“That’s ridiculous” No.2 said.
No.234 stood up “Perhaps with the
Chairman’s previous experience of life here in the village as a former prisoner,
he would endow this committee with his invaluable incite.”
No.234 saw he had made a mistake and sat
down.
“Don’t worry old boy” No.245
whispered “We all have to make mistakes, sometimes we have to, like putting an
inmate in charge of the
asylum!”
9
No.21 stood up “Confidentially I’m
sure if we show confidence in our new Chief administrator it will give him
confidence to have confidence in us.”
The meeting continued for another hour,
much was said and discussed, and decisions made. If No.2 thought he would make
changes to the village from within the system it was made plain to him that
such a move would take time.
No.2 glanced at his wristwatch “Is there any
more business?”
“No Number Two, we thought to ease you into
your new position. However if you will accompany me, I shall give you the grand
tour.”
“Tour?”
“Yes, I’ll show you around the rest of the
Town Hall, and take you along to the control room to introduce you to its
workings.”
No.2 glanced at his watch again.
No.21 noticed this action “There’s
plenty of time before the funeral Number Two” No.21 said leading the way out of
the committee chamber.
A pair of steel doors slid open, and No.21
lead the way through and onto a gantry.
“This then in the nerve centre of the
village.”
No.2 stood at the railing as the bald-headed
supervisor-No.26 stood looking up at the two men dressed in black overcoats and
top hats looking down at him.
“It’s alright supervisor, just giving
the new Number two the grand tour, showing him how it all works” his assistant explained.
The supervisor nodded.
No.2 looked down at the number of
personnel sat at their monitors
“They are the Observers.”
“I was once told they see and hear
everything” No.2 said.
“Do they really, I shouldn’t have
thought so.”
“And the steel see-saw device?”
“Two more Observers sit on either
end, and the motion of the see-saw helps prolongs the attention time of the
Observers at their monitors.”
No.2 stood looking about the domed
chamber; suddenly the large
wall screen was activated. A surveillance camera panned across the wide expanse of sand, then zoomed in on a young man far out on the beach and striding out towards the island in the middle of the estuary. Zooming out and panning again the camera picked up the amorphous white sphere of the Guardian which appeared rolling and bounding across the sand towards its intended victim. No.89 began to run, he threw his haversack away and concentrated on the island about 100 yards ahead of him, he wouldn’t make it, as the white sphere announced its presence with a loud noise crossed between something like a bicycle pump, someone breathing through an aqualung, and Gregorian chant. And then it was upon him, hitting his shoulder and sending him stumbling to ground. He got to his feet again, but his feet stuck in the soft sand and as he stumbled again the Guardian was on him in an instant. He clawed at the membrane coving his face, his lungs burned for lack of oxygen as he fought to breathe. Then his fingers relaxed, and he fell back on the sand unconscious. Seconds later a white Mini-Moke towing a canopied Red Cross trailer arrived on the scene, The Guardian backed away as a medic and nurse jumped out of the ambulance and approached the body lying on the sand.
10
No.2 watched on the wall screen while
the nurse administered a hypodermic needle into the patient’s wrist, the body
then laid on a stretcher and carried to the ambulance.
“I trust that was not for my benefit”
No.2 said looking down at the supervisor.
“No sir, we have been keeping an eye
on Number Eighty-nine, it was only a matter of time before he attempted
something like that” the supervisor replied from the floor.
“What do you want done with him?”
No.21 asked.
No.2 turned to his assistant “Done
with him?”
“Yes.”
“He’s had a nasty shock, have him
taken to the hospital.”
“Yes sir, will you observe his interrogation?”
No.2 glanced again at his watch.
“Oh of course you have a funeral to
attend” No.21 said “everything has been properly organized; we are used to
organizing things.”
“I bet you are!” No.2 said bitterly.
The funeral cortège consisting of a white Mini-Moke with a black and white striped canopy acted as a hearse, towing behind it a black canopied trailer with the coffin containing the body of the late No.2. A brass band, two undertakers, a group of citizens with black umbrellas, and No.2 wearing his black overcoat and top hat, assembled in the cobbled square. The cortege moved slowly through the village to the music of the Radetzky March. Here and there citizens stood in silence and bowed their heads in respect for a respected former leader. The hearse led the way through the streets, passed the café, round by the taxi rank and then up into the woods towards the cemetery. Two grave diggers had been busy digging a plain ordinary grave, a long deep hole in the ground befitting anyone, yet distinctly un-grandiose for a former Chief Administrator of the village. The hearse arrived by the graveside, the two undertakes, aided by the two grave diggers, lifted the coffin out of the hearse and lowered it into the grave. No.2 stood observing the ritual, not that there was any form of ritual, no words spoken over the grave, no respect shown to someone who had given his life for the cause. The hearse was driven away, the brass band returned to the village, and the few citizens who had attended the funeral had not lingered for long. Although it did seem those few citizens were there simply for show. No.2 stood alone at the graveside as the two grave diggers began to back fill the hole in the ground, because basically that is what it was and nothing more. The body might lay there decomposing and rotting, but the essence of the man he had known, who had almost become a friend in the course of their former deliberations back in that Embryo Room, was somewhere else No.2 thought raising his face to the sky, somewhere on a different plain…..an aeroplane high in the sky leaving its vapour trailing behind, finally, a sign of his former World and after all this time.
11
No.2 returned to his room in the Town Hall
and changed into his attire of grey polo neck jersey, grey flannel trousers,
and single breasted plain dark blazer. He wound the old college scarf about his
neck, picked up the umbrella shooting stick and made his way out of the Town
Hall. Standing on the steps he checked his watch, it was a little before
“He might look the part, but he’s not
fitting into the role of Number Two” the supervisor commented as he watched his
superior on the wall screen.
“It must be difficult for him,
strange to find himself in charge of the prison after having been its prize
inmate” No.21 replied.
“I’ve never known any Number Two to
simply go for a stroll like that, what’s he up to?”
“The helicopter is due isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I have the helicopter on radar now
sir” reported the radar operator.
“You don’t think….” suggested the
supervisor.
“Well he has the authority, but do we
let him get away with it, and clear of the village?” No.21 asked.
They stood looking at each other,
wondering, and then back at the screen as No.2 walked nonchalantly down the
hill towards the Old People’s Home.
The silver grey Alouette helicopter
approached the village from over the hills, flew across the estuary and made
its approach to land on the lawn by the sea wall watched closely by No.2. The
engine stopped, the rotor blades still turned but slowing. No.2 crossed the
lawn towards the helicopter, the pilot opened the cabin door. Then a white
Mini-Moke towing a Red Cross trailer arrived on the scene. Two medics climbed
out, took a stretched from the trailer and hurried towards the helicopter.
“Excuse us Number Two” one medic said
as they brushed passed.
The stretcher was laid on the grass
and the two medics helped the pilot take the slim figure of a woman out of the
Perspex cabin and lie it onto the stretcher which was then carried across the
lawn to the ambulance.
“It was good of you to come Number
Two, but really there wasn’t any need, she’s not that important” No.21 said
watching the young woman being placed in the trailer.
No.2 turned to watch the helicopter
pilot close the cabin door and make a few safety checks.
“I needed the walk, to help clear my
mind after the funeral” No.2 told his assistant.
“Can I offer you a lift back sir?”
“Yes……yes you can” No.2 said with confidence.
12
A small crowd had gathered in the village
square, they were laughing, jeering, and throwing things.
“Well that went well!”
“You think so, we insulted the man!”
“I know, but do we deserve such
treatment as this?”
A soft tomato struck one man full in
the face quickly followed by two eggs, and a wet lettuce.
“Oi stop that, don’t you know who we
are?” said the man in a black coat sat in the stock, his top hat knocked off by
the throwing of a cabbage.
The crowd laughed, jeered, and
ridiculed the two Top Hat officials, pelting them with rotten fruit all the
more because they knew who the two
men were.
“Its alright for you, at least you’re
sat down!” No.245 said as someone stepped forward and smashed a rotten egg and
smeared it all over his face and head.
And so it was the whole day for the
two officials, one sat in the stocks and stood pilloried, peppered with Brussel
sprouts, rotten fruit and worse by the citizens of the community.
13
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