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Monday, 12 September 2022

A New No.2 - Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3 

An Attempted Escape 

    “You must realise Number Two that you cannot leave, your term in office has only just begun” No.21 explained.
    “And how long is a term of office?”
No.2 asked prowling the floor of his office.
   “I don’t rightly know” 21 replied “how long is a piece of string?”
   No.2 stopped pacing and glared at his assistant just at that moment the red, curved, over-sized telephone began to bleep, both men glanced at it.
    “Well it’s not for me” No.21 said.
    Snatching up the ridiculous telephone No.2 announced himself.
    “Number 2 here……….I didn’t want this, I never asked for it…and if I don’t?.........” he replaced the telephone on the desk.
    “Something wrong Number Two?”
    “Number 1 has a delicate sense of humour.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “There is to be a new arrival in the Village.”
    “Do we have any details?”
    “A file is to be passed on to us. He is to be put in the …….in the round house which will be given the number six.”
    “Six sir?”
    “Six….six…..six!” No.2 shouted.
    “A new Number Six, I wonder what he’ll be like, can’t be any worse than any of his predecessors” No.21 remarked.
    “What do you mean by that?”
    “Well you don’t imagine you were the first Number Six do you?”
    “And did they all live in the round house at one time or another?”
    “I really couldn’t say sir, but for the moment there is Number Ninety-three.”
    “What about Ninety-three?”
    “Well if I may say sir, you have enough former experience to realize that there are few ways by which to attempt an escape, well Number Ninety-three doesn’t! He sees it as the right of every prisoner to try and escape.”
    “I would agree with him.”
    “You would? This isn’t Colditz where gentlemen prisoner’s of war behave like over grown school boys thinking it’s all a game!”
    “Isn’t it a game?”
    “You have to pick a side, and play a straight bat.”
    “Even on a sticky wicket?”
    No.2 may have sympathy towards Number 93, a man who is 
desperate to be free of the Village, but who realized he has to play the same game but in a different way. 

14


    In his time No.93 had tried numerous ways of escape, but each time had resulted in failure. Once he had stolen a speedboat, but as he headed towards the mouth of the estuary and the open sea beyond, suddenly the engine had cut out and left his boat dead in the water. The white amorphous Guardian appeared and acted as both power unit and rudder for the boat, steering it back to shore. Next he spent six weeks carving himself a dugout canoe out of a fallen tree trunk, and paddled his way up river until he was eventually caught by Post 9. He had joined the local scuba club, and one day on a dive he managed to elude his diving buddy, and underwater he swam his way towards the far shore of the estuary. But then the Guardian appeared out of the gloom of the water, but this time it was 93 who had had the advantage, his face mask and aqua lung preventing him from being suffocated or drowned. When the Guardian could gain no advantage it withdrew, leaving 93 to swim on his way that is until……….the first depth charge exploded in the water! From a speedboat on the surface the crew dropped a number of depth charges at various depths into the water. Each depth charge subjected the diver to a number of hydraulic shocks, which would either kill or force the diver to the surface. Therapy treatment had no effect on No.93, he simply became more and more desperate in his escape attempts. He hid in a dustbin in order to have himself thrown out of the Village with all the other rubbish! When that failed he simply ran away along the beach until he was eventually run to ground by the Guardian. He once hid himself in the woods for three days evading the guardians as they searched for him, then as the search faded he made a run for it towards the mountains, but was shot in the leg by Post 12 in the Outer Zone. After that he along with three confederates began working on a tunnel, however any plan is only as good as the men you can rely on, and No.32 turned out to be a quisling and informed on No.93 resulting in further therapy treatment which was to have resulted in his rehabilitation and being properly integrated. The doctor could not have been more wrong!

    “And since then?” No.2 asked closing the file.
    “Nothing, and that’s the trouble, Ninety-three isn’t the kind of man to give up, so he must be up to something” No.21 said.
    No.2 thought for a moment “Let’s have him in for questioning.”
    “What will that achieve?”
    “I want to learn what’s behind his motivations.”
    “I can tell you what they are; he’s motivated by the thoughts of escape.”
    “Then we must de-motivate him” No.2 said “take away the reason for his need to escape.”
   No.21 led three burly set guardians to ’93 Private,’ and from there No.93 was manhandled to the Green Dome and taken into the office.

15


    No.2 looked at No.93, a tall man in his late 40’s with a full grey beard, from the comfort of his chair. Leaning forward he pressed a

button on the control panel of his desk turning on the wall screen. No.21 leaned over the desk and pressed the right button. A disc in the floor slid away and a black leather chair rose up through the hole and No.93 was sat in it, after which the guardians smartly left the office.
    “I have been reading your file Ninety-three.”
    “Perhaps you would like me to add an inscription!”
    “You see that’s not the proper attitude at all” No.2 told him.
    “Proper attitude, I like that! What about you?”
    “We are not discussing me.”
    “You were once like me…a prisoner!”
    “As you can see I have gone up in the Village.”
    “And now we are to live by the rule of six!”
    “You have resisted” No.2 said.
    “YOU resisted!” 93 said.
    “And look where it’s got me, and what makes you better than any of your predecessors.”
    “I don’t know, I’m still settling into the job.”
    “What’s he doing, showing you the ropes?”
    “Your attitude does you no credit 93.”
    “How’s Number One?”
    No.21 pressed a button and 93 jerked in pain as a current of electricity passed through the chair.
    “Switch it off!” No.2 shouted.
    No.21 switched off the electrical current and 93 relaxed.
    “Sir if I might say.”
    “No you may not.”
    “This man needs a short sharp shock” No.21 suggested.
    “I think he’s already had one. Number Twenty-one there are other ways, we must give Ninety-three purpose within the community.”
    “In what way sir?”
    “Have him taken to the labour exchange and have him given a job!”
    “Head of security I suppose!”
    “That’s one idea, but I thought something menial. Ninety-Three…..Ninety-three look at me.”
    No.93 lifted his head.”
    “Are you mechanically minded?” No.2 asked.
    “I once built my own kit car.”
    “There you are you see 21, he’s a mechanic, tell the labour exchange manager to put him in vehicle maintenance.”
    “Yes Number Two.”
    “Let him get his hands dirty, keep him occupied, the trouble is he’s had far too much time on his hands. Take that away and there’ll be less opportunity of escape.”

16


   The next morning No.93 found himself sat in a leather chair in the green walled office of the Labour Exchange. There was an inner wall made up by a number of light and dark grey painted arches, it gave the impression of being a 1920’s German expressionist film set. A sliver grey haired man sat gazing at No.93 from behind a grey curved desk.

    “So, you want to be a motor mechanic” No.20 said.
    “They sent me here to be given a job” 93 replied.
    “Well you’ve certainly the qualifications for being a motor mechanic.”
    “What?”
    The manager opened a ledger selecting the appropriate page “In 1964 you built a kit car.”
    “You know about that?”
    “Oh yes, we have everything about you, and I think that qualifies you to be a motor mechanic.”
    “Does that mean I’ve got the job?”
    “Would you care for a cup of tea?” the manger asked getting up out of his chair. He was dressed in grey tails, grey waistcoat and trousers, white shirt and grey tie. There was a grey topper resting on his desk.
    “Tea?”
    “Elevenses” the manger said picking up the silver plated teapot and pouring out two cups of tea. He added milk and two lumps of sugar to 93’s tea.
   93 took the offered cup and saucer, and stirred his tea while the manager drank his not once taking his eyes off the man sat in the chair. After a few minutes both cups and saucers were replaced back on the tea tray.
    “Thank you for the tea” 93 said about to rise up out of his chair “I think I’ll be going now if it all the same to you.”
    “I’m afraid it’s not all the same to me” the manager said quickly pressing a button on the control panel of his desk.
    No.93 was shocked by an electrical current passing through the chair. It stiffened his body and forcing him back in the chair, unable as he was to release his grip on the arms of the chair. The manager pressed a second button and the lights dimmed, the touch of another button activated the large wall screen, upon which was pictured the silhouette of 93’s head. There were two angled lines which converged at the silhouette’s forehead, and on the upper line was a circle, on the lower a square.
    “This” announced the manager “is the truth test, anything you think here is thought in strictest confidence. Why do you wish to work as a motor mechanic?”
    93 gripped the armrests of the chair, he closed his eyes tight shut, he tried not to think, but his thoughts betrayed him. The circle moved forward towards the forehead of the black silhouette.
   “That of course is a lie, but will not be held against you. You thought that if you became a motor mechanic you would be working 
in the motor pool, or perhaps maintaining one of the two speed boats, then to try and escape by road or sea.”

17

    No.93 opened his eyes and staring straight ahead focused his mind on nothing, nothing at all, but on the wall screen the square moved forward on its line.
    “Now we come to the truth of the matter. But you were mistaken in this thinking weren’t you?”
    The circle on the screen moved forward again.
    “Please let us have the truth” the manager said.
    The square moved forward on its lines towards the forehead of the subject, then both circle and square moved backwards, then forwards again in synchronization until they met at a point and merged into the mind of the subject.

   93 collapsed in his chair!
   
    The next day No.93 was busy in the motor pool changing a tyre of the Mini-Mokes, he was being watched not by the supervisor, but by No.2 on the wall screen in his office.
    “I think he’ll settle down” No.2 said.
    “You think so?” his assistant said giving his superior a sideways glance.
    “He seems happy in his work.”
    “That could be a façade.”
    “You mean he’s attempting to put us to sleep.”
    “What do you want me to do, bring him in for questioning?”
    “I don’t want you to do anything” No.2 said sternly “let the man be, he’ll settle down all of his own accord.”
    Tea’s up No.63 announced. No.93 wiped his hands on a cloth and went to join his two fellow mechanics for a tea break.
    “When you’ve finished changing that tyre Ninety-three one of the jet boats has developed an engine fault, go over and sort it out would you” the foreman said.
    “Righto.”

    Two days later……

    It was a beautiful morning and No.2 had decided to stretch his legs, he wound the old school scarf around his neck and shoulders, picked up the umbrella shooting stick, and left the Green Dome making his way to the maintenance shed.

    He stood in the open doorway watching those at work, he was observed by the foreman, a middle aged man in cap and overalls.
    “Number Two, what can we do for you?”
    “Nothing really, I’m just stretching my legs, getting my bearings. This is the maintenance shed.”
    “Yes sir.”
    “Good” he said stepping into the building “why is that taxi here?”

18


    “A problem with the engine, suspected blocked fuel line” the foreman said.
    “Well sort it out, can’t have a taxi off the road you know.”
    “Yes sir, my best man is on the job now.”
    No.2 walked over to the taxi where No.93 was working under the bonnet, he bent over “What’s the problem?”
    93 looked at the man who had put his head under the bonnet, he was surprised to see it was No.2 “It won’t start, suspected blocked fuel line.”
    “Might be the carburettor” No.2 suggested standing upright he leaned his shooting stick by the Mini-Moke, removed his scarf and blazer and rolled up his sleeves “May I?” he asked picking up a spanner.
    “Be my guest.”
    “Don’t look so worried, I’m a bit of a dab hand when it comes to mechanics myself, I once built my own Lotus Seven, I knew every nut, bolt and cog” No.2 said getting to work.

    The two men got their heads together under the bonnet putting a spanner to the carburettor.

    “If you are thinking of attempting escape by Mini-Moke let me assure you that all roads lead back to the Village!” No.2 told him.
    “What?”
    “And I can tell you it’s not much better by sea.”
    “Why, why are you talking like this….you’re trying to trap me!”
    “I could help you.”
    “Why should you help me?”
    A few moments later the two men emerged from under the bonnet, No.2 had the carburettor in hand, he blew into a tiny jet.
    “That should do it” he said and the two men put their heads back under the bonnet to replace the part.
    “We haven’t got long, I don’t want to attract the attention of the foreman” No.2 said.
    “Wh…what?”
    “You are not happy here ninety-three?”
    “In the motor pool….I’m happy enough.”
    “In the Village I mean.”
    “Why do you care?”
    These few words brought back a memory “Why do you care? I know your voice. I’ve been here before, why do you care?”
    “I, I don’t, just get on with your work and you will do well” No.2 said donning his blazer and scarf once more.

    The butler was employed with putting out the afternoon tea things. The pair of steel doors slid open and No.21 walked smartly down the ramp and approached the desk.

    “I’m just about to have afternoon tea Twenty-one, would you care for a cup?”
    The butler was already pouring out two cup of tea, adding milk and 
sugar to one and a slice of lemon to the other., then wheeled his trolley across the floor, up the ramp and out through the opening steel doors.

19


    No.21 picked up his cup and saucer and stirred his tea “You went to the motor pool….to see Number Ninety-three?”
    “We have something in common.”
    “Really.”
    “Mechanics” No.2 said sipping his tea.

    “Is he going to try and escape do you think?”
    “In my opinion yes, his spirit’s broken.”

    “Then we’ll be ready for him, which do you think by land or by sea?”

    “Neither, he’ll find another way.”
    “Is there another way?”
    “There’s always another way.”
    “But you of all people will not be too hard on him!”
    “Drink your tea Twenty-one.”

   The day was sunny and warm, ordinarily citizens would be down on the beach either sunbathing, playing beach ball, paddling in the gullies of water left by the outdoing tide, or building sandcastles. However today the tide was in as it had been for the past three days which as it happens gave the village added security. Someone might attempt an escape along the beach, but they could hardly walk on water, although one citizen was enjoying himself water skiing. No.49 was at the helm of the jet boat as it powered through the waves of the estuary with the water skier towed behind performing all manner of skilful tricks. That is until the engine of the jet boat spluttered, coughed, and died leaving the jet boat dead in the water, and the water skier floundering.
   In the control room an Observer had been watching her monitor as a surveillance camera made a sweep over the estuary, and had observed the boat floating in the water.
   “Supervisor, one of the jet boats has broken down and is now adrift in the estuary.”
   “Let’s have it on the screen” the Supervisor said.
   At the press of a button the large wall screen came to life.
    “Get in closer on the boat” the Supervisor ordered.
    A camera zoomed in on the boat just in time to see the crewman helping the man out of the water, along with his ski, into the boat. Then the crewman uncovered the engine and began to tinker with it.
    “Better send out the other boat with a mechanic onboard” the Supervisor told his assistant.
    “Right sir” No.60 said picking up the yellow ‘L’ shaped telephone     “Put me through to maintenance…..maintenance control room here. One of the jet boats has developed an engine fault, send a motor 
mechanic to retrieve boat and two people.”

20


    No.93 and another mechanic set out to the aid of the broken down boat in the second jet boat. The boatman and water skier were helped into the rescue boat, while 93 went aboard to try and start the engine.
   “I’ll throw you a rope and I’ll tow you in” No.125 offered.
   “It’s alright” 93 said lifting the engine cowling “I bet it’s the plugs, this won’t take a minute or two, you head back to shore.”

    The second jet boat skimmed across the waves back towards the village and the slipway.

    In the control room the supervisor and his assistant stood watching the scene play out on the wall screen.

    “I wonder why he refused the tow.” No.60 asked.
    “I don’t know” the supervisor replied picking up the yellow ‘L’ shaped telephone “Number 2.”
    No.2 was sat behind his desk studying a number of confidential files when the yellow ‘L’ shaped telephone began to bleep. He put down the file on village protocols and picked up the telephone.
    “Number Two here.”
    “Supervisor here sir, there is a stranded jet boat in the estuary.”
    “What do you want me to do about it? Send the second boat and have it towed back to shore.”
    “We did that, but Number Ninety-three refused the tow. He’s working on the engine of the boat as we speak.”
    “Who did you say?”
    “Number Ninety-three.”
    No.2 leaned forward and looked at the buttons on the control panel his finger poised, but which one to press “Switch me in” he said.
   The wall screen came to life and there was No.93 aboard the jet boat busy working on the engine.
    “It seems alright” No.2 said.
    Then he watched as 93 dropped the cowling over the engine, and taking the helm started the engine and steered a course for the mouth of the estuary and towards the open sea beyond. Just at that moment the pair of steel doors opened and No.21 walked smartly down the ramp.
    “Anything wrong sir?”
    “Ninety-three is aboard a jet boat and heading for the open sea!”
    Orange alert seems the obvious choice of command” 21 suggested.
    “That will not work” No.2 said “believe me I’ve had personal experience, for the Guardian to be effective Ninety-three needs to be in the water. The helicopter could give chase.”
    “The helicopter left the Village twenty minutes ago sir.”
    On the telephone the supervisor asked for instructions.
    “There is always EDS” 21 suggested.
    EDS what’s that?”
    “Electronic Defence System, known by the simpler title of the Beam.”

   “Supervisor, deploy the Beam” No.2 instructed.

21


    “Very well sir, maximum strength?” the supervisor asked.
    No.2 put his hand over the speaker of the telephone “Beam set at hellfire?”
    “No, we don’t want the boat to explode, maximum strength should be adequate” 21 responded.
    All the time the jet boat was getting further away from the village.
    “Supervisor, Beam maximum strength.”
    The supervisor passed the word to an operator, and at the touch of a button the top of the flagpole lifted clear and a steel rod rose up and at a 45 degree angle transmitted a signal across the estuary. No.93 was approaching the mouth of the estuary by this time, he glanced over his shoulder, there was no sign of a pursuit boat nor of the helicopter, and no appearance of the Guardian. But then the engine began to splutter then it died. In desperation he turned the ignition key, nothing! Leaving the helm he lifted the engine cowling and set to work on the engine.
   No.2 sat watching the wall screen and 93 aboard the drifting boat “We can’t leave him there, perhaps we should send M. S. Polotska to go to Ninety-three’s aid.”
    No.21 smiled, “He’s beginning to get it” he thought to himself.
    No.2 picked up the ‘L’ shaped telephone “Control room…….control room, tell the crew of M. S. Polotska to go to the aid of Number Ninety-three.”
    The radio crackled into life, Ernst picked up the mouthpiece and gave the recognition signal. A voice over the speaker gave Ernst and Gunter their instructions “A mariner in a small jet boat is in distress, go to his aid immediately.”

    “Okay, will do” Ernst said.

    Gunter at the wheel turned hard to port, steering the motor ship towards the mouth of the estuary. A search pattern was carried out in search of the small boat, then two points off the starboard beam….a man standing in a drifting boat waving his arms in the air. M. S. Polotska pulled alongside, Ernst threw a line to the stranded mariner who made the rope fast, and then was helped aboard the motor cruiser.
    “Thank you” 93 said entering the wheelhouse “You don’t know how good it is to see you.”
    “You must be relieved” a voice said.
    93 spun round to see the familiar face of No.2 sat in his black global chair on the television screen.
    “We could see you were in distress, cast adrift and in need of rescue!” No.2 said.
    93 looked about him; he saw a heavy glass ashtray and moved a hand towards it.
    “I shouldn’t if I were you, deliberate destruction of official property could result in a fine, possibly imprisonment” No.2 warned.

22

    Before he could throw the ashtray 93 was held in a sudden strong grip and restrained as M. S. Polotska was steered on a course along the estuary towards the village.
   

23

 

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