Chapter 12
The Tally Ho
The
pair of steel doors opened and No.21 walked smartly down the ramp, he held a
copy of the Village broadsheet in his hand. Approaching the desk he unfolded
the paper and was looking at the front page.
“Have you read today’s Tally Ho?” he
asked.
No.2 sat looking at his assistant
“No, no I haven’t, anything interesting in that propaganda sheet?”
21 smiled “As a matter of fact there is sir, an article about you” and he handed No.2 the paper across the desk. No.2 looked at the picture of himself, then read the headline.
The Tally Ho
Who Is Our New No.2?
by our own reporter
The former No.6, former poacher now turned gamekeeper! That is the identity of the new No.2. He is a man who once having attained the position through free election, immediately attempted to incite the citizens of this community into conducting a mass breakout of the village. This one action was evidence enough to prove this man as No.2 could not be trusted enough to head the administration for the good of this community. He lacks the administrative ability to do so. Yes he is still new to the position and has much to learn about the manipulation of such a community as ours.
This new No.2 is not a new interim No.2, but a permanent No.2, but we know nothing about THE
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Whoever wrote that tripe?” No.2
demanded to know.
“I have no idea sir” 21 said “but there’s also a feature on you in the
Tally Ho Journal, also the Village Weekly, and Village Mercury glossy magazine.”
“Once upon a time my life was my own,
but I am surprised!”
“Surprised sir?” 21 said.
“Surprised that there’s enough news
in the Village in order to keep a daily broadsheet going, let alone enough
about me is known to fill three different features for three different
magazines.”
“Oh I don’t know sir, there’s always
something going on, even in a village of this size. And if there isn’t they
simply make it up. As for the magazine features about you, they are all one and
the same!”
No.2 folded the broadsheet “I think
it’s high time I paid a call at the offices of The Tally Ho, by the way, where
are the offices of The Tally Ho?”
The offices of The Tally Ho, situated at
the back of the Town Hall, was not exactly a hive of activity. The editor sat
at his desk the latest edition of the broadsheet set out before him. He was
examining it in the same way he examined every issue. The Tally Ho, usually
consisted of one headline, occasionally including one or two sub-headings. Mostly
the editor was given the front page headline and accompanying pre-written
article by someone within administration who on occasion had written the front
page article even before anything had happened. That article was usually
attributed to “our own reporter.” The Tally Ho having one reporter No.113, his
photographic colleague being No.113b, and No.113c who is the vendor of The
Tally Ho, dispensing each issue from something which looked to be based on the
design of a washing mangle, and distributed daily at noon. Recent editions of
The Tally Ho had enjoyed a number of excellent articles covering the Village
regatta, the horticultural show, and not forgetting the Board of Agriculture’s past
problems with the village farm’s production. And the welcome news for a new
sewage plant that is to be constructed to relieve the Village of its sanitary
problems. To produce such a large broadsheet in a small village, and fill it
with news is easier than one might first think. The editor put the paper to one
side and studied the stories on his desk. No.36’s missing cat didn’t exactly
cut the mustard, and warranted only a few lines at the foot of the page.
No.38’s recipe for Jugged hare would make a small column, as would No.59’s gardening
tips amongst a number of stories. But it was all small beer, nothing to get
one’s teeth into as a journalist! And yet how it worked the editor was but a
puppet of the Village’s administration who wrote all the main headline and
front page article for the broadsheet. All the editor had to do was see that
the articles were properly typeset and printed. The door opened, in the
corridor the tea lady was busy filling a cup with tea from the tea urn,
added
milk and sugar and passing through the door placed cup and saucer on the desk.
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“The cup that cheers” No.214 said.
“Thank you” No.113a, the editor, said
looking up from his desk.
“If you’re interested sir, I have a
story for the next edition of The Tally Ho” she said taking an old press cutting
from the pocket of her piny.
“Put it there” the editor said.
Placing the cutting on top of the
small pile of newspaper stories she closed the door behind her, and pushed her
tea trolley along the corridor to towards the next office.
Suddenly the door burst open and
No.113 entered in something of an excited state. He was a man in his early
fifties, wearing a yachting cap and pink piped blazer, and sporting a
moustache.
“What’s the matter with you?” the
editor asked looking up from his desk.
“I’ve just seen a new face in the Village!”
113 said.
“Is that all” the editor replied “unless
it’s one of the
“Not quite, but close” 113 told him.
“And I got a photograph of him” 113b
added entering the office and tapping his camera.
Number 113b also wore a pink piped
blazer, and cap.
“Who?” the editor asked.
“What?” 113 asked.
“Who is this new face who has got you
in such an agitated state?” the editor wanted to know.
“Show him” 113 said.
No.113b handed a photograph to the
editor.
“Him!” the editor exclaimed “you saw this
man in the Village today?”
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“Yes. He appeared confused, disorientated”
113 said.
“He asked us where he was” 113b
added.
“You told him?” asked the editor.
“Yes” 113 replied.
“He wanted to know where he could get
a hire car” 113b said.
“I bet he did” the editor said still
looking at the photograph.
“We told him there were only taxis” 113b
said “so he went off looking for one.”
“Did you ask him who he was?”
“Yes” 113 replied “he was kind enough
to give me a quote, he told me to buzz off and mind my own business!”
“He would, I remember him, he made
world news a few years ago when he defected!” the editor explained “his name
is…..”
Suddenly the figure of No.2 stood
framed in the doorway; he stormed in and slammed his copy of The Tally Ho down
on the desk upsetting the cup of tea in its saucer, the editor mopping up the
spilt tea with a handkerchief.
“And what can we do for you Number
Two?”
“Who wrote this?” No.2 said demanding
to know “it wasn’t you was it?”
No.113 saw No.2 glaring at him “No,
I’m Number One-one-three.”
“Not our own reporter?” No.2 asked.
“No.”
No.2 looked at the editor, then his eyes looked down at the desk and saw
the photograph of a face he once knew, of a man who did the same job, of a man
who had once been a friend. It had the power to stop No.2 dead in his tracks.
“Wh…where did you get that?” No.2
asked.
“It was taken this morning” the
editor explained.
“He’s here…in the Village?”
No.2 backed away from the desk and
out of the office.
The editor, No.113, and 113b all
looked at each other. He picked up the cup and saucer, the tea was cold,
putting cup and saucer back on the desk he picked up the photograph and studied
it. It was not the fact that the photograph had not been taken in the Village
that the editor found so remarkable, but that there’s a story here.
“I want you to interview this man, get his background
story, I’m sure it involves our Number Two in some way.”
No.113 and 113b looked at each other.
“Well what are you waiting for” the
editor asked “Christmas?”
Having been driven around the Village the
taxi came to a stop.
“That will be two units sir.”
The man looked at the female driver
“Units, what do you mean units?”
“Oh well, pay me next time” the
driver told him.
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He alighted the vehicle and the taxi
driver drove away looking for her
next fare, leaving the man standing in the street. He stopped a passer-by.
“Can you tell me where this?”
“The Village.”
“Yes.”
“You’re in the Village” No.237 told
him.
“The Village, where is this Village?”
“You must be new here” 237 said.
“New here, why must I be new here?”
“You wouldn’t be asking if you
weren’t, be seeing you” the man saluted, and went on his way.
The man stood looking about him, he
looked up at the Green Dome. On the other side of the street stood three men,
the tall fair haired figure of No.21 and two tough looking guardians. They
crossed the road.
“You are to come with us” 21 told him.
“Go with you, why should I?”
“Because if you don’t these two men
will break your arms!”
“Strong arm stuff eh!”
“Number Two wants a word with you.”
“Who is this Number Two?”
“You’ll find out in a couple of
minutes” 21 said snapping his fingers.
The two guardians took the man by the
arms and escorted him across the road and up the steps to the front door of the
Green Dome. The door opened and the man was rushed through the foyer, through
the pair of open steel doors and into the purpled walled chamber. There was a
vacant black leather chair and the man was sat in it. Behind the grey curved
desk the black global chair turned slowly until No.2 faced his guest.
“YOU!” the man said rising up put of
the chair.
A hand was placed on each shoulder
and forced him back into his seat.
“You two can go, our new friend here
won’t be causing any trouble” No.2 said.
“New friend, but we’ve been friends…..”
“I once told you that’s in the past”
No.2 said.
“When did you tell me that, we
haven’t seen each other, for how long is it now, seven years.”
“You’ve been keeping count!”
“We used to be on the same side.”
“Once.”
“We did the same job.”
“Not quite, you defected.”
“I see you still rate absolute truth.
I know which side I’m on, but which side are you on?”
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“Do
sides really matter?”
“They did to you, once. Only success
matters and you seem to have succeeded. I hope you’re happy in your new life.”
“Who is this man?” 21 asked.
“Shall I tell him?” No.2 asked.
The man sat in the chair shrugged his
shoulders.
“Algernon Wentworth-Smyth” No.2 said
handing his assistant a black file.
No.21 took the offered file, opened
it and began to read.
“You lifted me!” Algernon complained.
“Not me I assure you” No.2 told him.
“You had it done, now you can get me
out of here.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Not even for old time’s sake?” the
man pleaded.
No.2 shook his head.
“Well seeing as I’m here what do you
want?”
“We want you to talk” No.2 said “and
I have a few questions of my own.”
“Oh I see, this is you extracting your
revenge, is that it?”
No.21 closed the file, he had read
enough “And he did all that?”
“He did” No.2 replied.
“I don’t know how you can bear to be
in the same room as him!”
“We used to do the same job” No.2
told him “we used to be on the same side.”
Algernon smiled a somewhat smarmy
smile.
“He’s a bit too oily for my taste.”
“He has a great deal of information”
No.2 said.
“To be protected?” 21 asked.
“To be extracted!” No.2 said with a
smile.
“I wish you two wouldn’t talk about
me as though I wasn’t here! And you’ve
changed!”
“He hasn’t been issued with a number
yet sir.”
“What number shall we issue him
with?”
“Number, my name is Algernon
Wentworth-Smyth.”
“Names are not used here” 21 told
him.
“You are now Number One-two-three c.”
“One-two-three c, why not b?”
“Because you’re a third rate
ex-traitor!” No.2 told him pressing a button on the control panel.
The pair of steel doors opened and
two guardians marched down the ramp and stood before No.123c.
“These are my men!” he protested.
“They work for the Village now” 2
informed him “take him away.”
“What are you going to do to me?”
“That all depends on the doctor, we
want to know why you defected.”
“Is that all, well I’ll tell you
anything you want to know.”
“It isn’t as easy as that! I think
you deserve a spell in hospital, but don’t
worry, you’ll get the best treatment.”
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“Hospital, I’m not unwell!”
The two guardians helped No.123c out
of the chair and manhandled him out of the domed chamber, his protestations
falling
on
deaf ears.
“He’s in my country now” No.2 told
his assistant, who didn’t understand.
A white Mini-Moke was parked at the steps
to the Green Dome, No.123c was being manhandled down the steps by two
guardians, followed by No.21. No.113 and his photographic colleague No.113b ran
towards the taxi as the man was being bundled into the back.
No.113b took a photograph.
“Can we have a quick word?” 113
asked.
“There’s nothing for you here” No.21
said climbing in behind the wheel.
No.113b took a couple more
photographs.
“Can I ask this gentleman a few
questions?” 113 persisted.
“Who are they?” No.123c asked.
“Members of the press, they want to
write about you” 21 said starting the engine.
“Smile” 113b said taking yet another
photograph.
“Members of the press well print
this, my name is Algernon Wentworth-Smyth, and I’m being held here against my
will!”
The taxi moved forward and passed out
of sight through an archway leaving numbers 113 and 113b standing in the road.
They both looked up at the Green Dome.
The yellow ‘L’ shaped telephone began
to bleep, No.2 put the Wentworth-Smyth file on his desk and picked up the
telephone.
“Number Two here…who did you say? Members
of the press…”
At that moment the pair of steel
doors opened and two men entered the chamber.
“What the Devil do you think you’re
doing?”
“I am Number on-one-three and this is
my photographic colleague Number One-one-three b, we contribute to the Tally Ho
don’t you know.”
“I do know, we have met before.”
“Yes Number Two, it was during the
local Elections.”
“I was actually thinking of earlier
this afternoon in the editor’s office.”
“That man who was just taken away.”
“What about him?”
“What is he to you?”
No.2 stood up “I suggest you get
out.”
No.113 glanced at the open file on
the desk, he saw the photograph, he saw the name “That’s him, that’s the man.
Why are you reading his file, and can we have a copy?”
“What’s your interest in him? 2
asked.
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“Tittle for tattle” 113 said “my
editor wants a story.”
“And you think there’s one here. Get
out of my office.”
“Smile” 113b said taking a picture.
“Out!”
The pair of steel doors opened and
the diminutive butler stood framed in the open doorway.
“Out, or he’ll throw the both of you
out!”
“He’ll
throw us out?”
“He’s stronger then he looks!”
“That’s nice” 113 said “members of
the press going about their lawful occasions thrown out into the street, I can
see the headline
now.”
“And I wonder what your file would
read like?”
“I’ve nothing to hide, a man with
nothing to hide has nothing to find!”
“Oh go before I lose my temper.”
The butler escorted the two visitors
out. The steel doors closed and No.2 picked up the grey telephone.
In the offices of The Tally Ho the editor
put the yellow telephone back on the desk. Standing up he left his office and
walked the short corridor to 113’s office, he kicked at the door, it opened and
he walked in.
“I’ve just had Number Two on the
blower” the editor said “he gave me a right earful.”
“Why was that?” 113 asked looking up
from his desk.
“Don’t worry, I defended you. I gave
him the usual spiel about the power and freedom of the press.”
“So what now?” 113 asked.
The editor thought for a moment “It’s
clear that Number 2 and Number One-two-three c have history, and that means
there’s a story, and he’s going to tell us about it.”
“Why should he do that?” 113 asked.
“Because Number 2 has something to
hide!” the editor suggested.
“What has he got to hide?”
“If I knew that I’d have it printed!”
the editor said.
“Well wherever Number Two has put
One-two-three c its somewhere we cannot get to him!” 113 said.
It
was three days before No.123c was returned to his cottage by two medical
orderlies. He was put to bed and allowed to rest. His old clothes had been
taken away and new clothes provided. Later that day he rose from his bed, his
body was stiff, his head ached from the hammer beating out a tune on a drum. He
showered dressed, and made himself coffee. Then came a knock on the door,
crossing the lounge he opened the cottage door.
“Hello, I’m Number 113, and this is
my photographic colleague Number 113b, we contribute to The Tally Ho don’t you
know” 113 said announcing themselves.
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“Know I don’t know” 123c said.
“Smile” 113b said and click went the
camera.
“Look what do you want?”
“To
intervi….” 113b began
113 nudged his colleague in the ribs
“To talk to you that’s all.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“Because we think Number Two is
persecuting you!”
“Is he?”
“You don’t know?”
“I complained about unfair
treatment.”
“Did you” 113 said writing unfair treatment
on his note pad “and what did he say?”
“He told me I was getting the same
treatment as everybody else.”
113 wrote that down “Told me I was
getting the same treatment as everybody else, look do you mind if we come in?”
No.113 and 113b brushed passed 123c
into the cottage.
“This is your place is it?” 113
asked.
“Well there’s no-one else here!”
No.113b began to take some
photographs.
“We thought we would do a feature on
you for the Village Journal” 113b said.
“The Village Journal, what’s that,
like home and garden?”
“No, don’t know that one, if you sit
in that armchair my photographic colleague will take a portrait photograph of
you.”
“Do you want me to change?”
“Change?” 113 asked.
“My clothes, this striped jersey and
grey flannel trousers don’t really suit me” 123c explained.
“Do you have a change of clothes?”
“No.”
“You’ll be fine just as you are” 113
told him.
“Well what do you want to know?” 123c
asked sitting down in the armchair by the fireplace.
“Oh the usual thing” 113 told him
“what you are, what you were, what you want to be. What you like to eat, what
you like to read, any religion, any politics?”
Click went the camera.
“And you think your readers will be
interested in me?”
“Absolutely” 113 told him.
“Look I’ve been interrogated solidly
for 3 days” 123c said rising to his feet “I’ve told your Number Two everything
I know, and there’s nothing left. So if you think you can waltz in here to see
if there’s anything left to squeeze out, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Now
I want you and your camera clicking friend here to leave, and leave me alone!"~ “And that was that” 113 said.
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“And he threw you both out” the
editor said.
“Well not exactly, we made a discreet
withdrawal” 113 explained.
“He had us thrown us out!” 113b added
“and they broke my camera in the process!”
“He doesn’t look the violent type”
the editor said “what do you mean
he had
you thrown out?”
“Well these two guardians came in,
and they threw us out” 113 explained “they broke my pencil and tore up my
notebook!”
“What were guardians doing in
One-two-three c’s cottage, were they there to take him away?”
“No, he seemed to know them.”
“Did he now!”
“He called them by name” 113b said.
“By name you say. I think you had
best have a word with these two guardians” the editor suggested.
“We would rather not” 113 said.
Two guardians marched No.123c through the Village.
This was observed in the control room. The supervisor picked up the yellow
telephone and reported the matter to No.2.
“What are they doing?” No.2 asked.
“They appear to be heading towards
the Green Dome “did you ask to see him?”
“No, is Twenty-one there?”
“Yes sir.”
“Tell him, no it doesn’t matter, I’ll
deal with this myself.”
The three men mounted the steps of
the Green Dome, the front door opened automatically and No.123c led his men
through into No.2’s office.
The steel doors closed.
“What do you want?” No.2 asked from
the comfort of his chair.
“These are my men” 123c said.
“I must have a word with recruitment!”
“Don’t be flippant it doesn’t suit
you.”
“So what do you want?”
“You’re going to let me go.”
“Am I?”
“Yes you are.”
“I suppose I’ll have to then.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Why?”
“I shouldn’t stop to ask questions if
I were you, I might have a change of mind. How are you going to leave?”
Algernon thought for a moment.
One of his henchmen whispered something in
Algernon’s ear.
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“We’ll take the helicopter” he said checking
his watch “It’s almost two o’clock.”
“You’ll never get away with it” No.2
told him.
“I thought you weren’t going to stop
me?”
“I’m not. But you still won’t get
away with it.”
In the control room the supervisor watched
the radar screen, there was a blip, picking up the yellow telephone he called
No.2.
On his desk the yellow ‘L’ shaped
telephone began to bleep.
“If I don’t pick it up they’ll think
something is wrong” No.2 told him.
“Alright, but be careful what you
say, otherwise crusher here will snap your neck like a twig.”
Picking up the telephone No.2
announced himself “Yes I see, no I
don’t
need to meet it.”
“What’s that about?”
“The helicopter is on its way.”
“Now you make a call and order a
taxi” Algernon ordered.
“A taxi, what for?” No.2 asked.
“What do you expect me to do, walk to
the helicopter?”
The
helicopter approached the Village from the far side of the estuary as a taxi
arrived at the lawn by the sea wall. Algernon and his henchmen got out and
waited as the helicopter made its approach to land on the lawn. The helicopter
hovered for a few moments then landed. Algernon and his two henchmen began to
approach the helicopter but then two large white spheres arrived on the scene
blocking their way. One of the henchmen attacked one of the Guardians trying to
lay into it with his fists, but it offered no resistance, it emitted a blood
curdling roar as it attacked the henchman, knocking him to the ground its
membrane covering the man’s face. He clawed at the membrane with his fingers as
his lungs burned for air denied to him, and then slumped to the ground. The
second henchmen who stood transfixed by the awful scene made to make a run for
it, but another Guardian was on him in an instant, he screamed oh how he screamed
as he was absorbed by the Guardian, its membrane taking on a pinkish hue.
The rotor blades of the helicopter
were still turning, the pilot still sat in the Perspex cabin. Algernon, not
generally a man of action himself, made a dash for it, leaping on one of the
grey floats and opening the cabin door.
“Get me out of this madhouse!” he
told the pilot as he settled himself into a seat.
The white shape in the pilot’s seat
turned its head; there were no eyes, no mouth, only smooth white membrane. There
came the roar as white membrane began to fill the cabin. Algernon kicked out at
the cabin door bursting the lock and throwing himself out onto the grey float.
No.21, having arrived on the scene with two security guards stepped forward to
apprehend the prisoner.
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“Can’t you?” Algernon asked.
“Can’t I what?” 2 said stepping
forward.
“Help me get me out of this
madhouse?”
“Don’t worry, Algernon, for old
time’s sake I’ll see you get the best care there is!”
An ambulance arrived and medics
removed the dead body, as security took No.123c in charge, just as No.113 and
his photographic
colleague
turned up on the scene.
“What has happened here Number Two?”
113 asked.
No.2 looked at the reporter who stood
with pencil and notebook at the ready.
“No comment!”
“Daring escape attempt foiled!”
“What actions will you take against
the prisoner?”
“Mind your own business!”
“Will lock him up and throw away the
key!”
“Smile” No.113b said.
Click went the camera!
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