Who’s That On The Telephono?

 

    Go on then….answer the telephone, intercom or whatever you like to call it! It’s nice to know that No.1 has been keeping your progress under such close surveillance, because once your failure had become apparent No.1 was on the blower to you a mere 21 seconds later! Oh I realize it wasn’t all your fault old chap, had No.14 told you that No.6 had opened his eyes and saw her even before the experiment had begun…..well you could have dealt with that. But she didn’t, and I bet you had no idea that when the good doctor went to the laboratory that No.6 followed her……you see. I believe by allowing herself to be followed to the laboratory No.14 was undermining you. Perhaps you should not have threatened to have the drug proved on her if she failed to get it right! You bullied and cajoled her, its no wonder she appeared to be pleased when No.6 succeeded. Sometimes I think the doctor used both the third dose of her drug and No.6 to put one over on No.2, to bring about his failure. Go on No.2….don’t keep No.1 waiting!

Be seeing you

Further Tales From The Village

 

    It was raining! It had to be admitted that when its raining in the village there’s really nothing much to do. No.16 wondered or not to make a dash through the rain to the café, but he put the kettle on instead. No point in getting wet unnecessarily. And no doubt even if the rain were to stop, the village green would still be too wet for a game of croquet. The cottage door suddenly opened and the maid came in carrying a breakfast tray.
    “What’s the matter with you?” she asked.
    “It’s raining.”
    “Yes, I know” she said taking the tray into the dinette.
    “You’re wet, and the breakfast will be cold.”
    “I’ve a good mind to report you” she told him.
    “But why come out in such weather?”
    “I have my job to do.”
    He picked up a slice of soggy toast out of the toast rack “To bring me a cold soggy breakfast, I applaud your devotion to the job, but I am capable of making my own breakfast.”
    “Now you’re simply being ungrateful, I thought better of you” she told him making for the door.
    “Aren’t you going to do the dusting, oh and my laundry wasn’t collected yesterday.”
    “Do your own housework, you’ve clearly nothing else to do” she told him opening the door.
    The door to his cottage closed. He stood at the window watching the maid dash down the steps and through the rain. In the dinette he made a cup of coffee and boiled himself a couple of eggs, and by late morning the rain had eased to a slight drizzle.

    By lunchtime the rain had stopped altogether, so No.16 decided to go out for a walk, and putting on his blazer he made for the door but his exit was blocked by two middle aged women.
    “Good day” No.38 said.
    “And what can I do for you to ladies?”
    “It’s flag day” 26 announced.
    It was then he noticed each of the ladies had a small cardboard box secured with a string about their necks, and each carried a clipper.
    “Flag day, flag day for what?”
    “We’re collecting donations for the building of the new concert hall” No.38 informed him.
    No.26 stood ready to pin a tiny flag to the lapel of his blazer.
    “Sorry” he said brushing passed the ladies “I’m not a concert goer!”

    Disappointed the two women went on their way, and No.16 went on his. He had descended the steps, reaching the road when a man bumped into him.
    “Sorry” the man said.
    “That’s alright, but you need to watch where you’re going.”
    “Yes I will” the man said and went on his way… walking backwards!
    “Oi”
    “What are you doing?” 16 shouted after him.
    “I’m walking backwards!”
    Ask a stupid question!
    Walking along the street he met with the ex-Admiral “My word, that’s a fine model you have there Admiral.”
    “Yes, the Titanic built her with my own hands, took me a few weeks but isn’t she magnificent, she’s complete with an electric motor.”
   He stood there examining the vessel “And what are you going to do with her now?”
    “Break her in half and chuck her in the free sea!”
    “She’ll sink” he said.

    “That’s right” the ex-Admiral said and went on his way whistling a sea shanty.
    He hadn’t walked far when he was almost run over by a chap riding a Penny Farthing bicycle. A chap in a peaked cap shouted “Get out of the way”, he did and the man riding the penny Farthing had lost control of the bicycle as it went pell-mell down the road. It was clear to him that he wasn’t going to make it round the corner at the bottom of the road. He didn’t. The Penny Farthing collided with a low stone wall and tipped the rider over the penny wheel and into the bushes. He ran down the road towards the accident.
    “Are you alright?” 16 asked moving the bicycle out of the way, and attending to the rider.
    “Yes I think so” the man said clamouring out of the bushes.

    “Why do you ride that thing?”
    “I have to, I’m the village postman!”
    He helped him to his feet and he brushed himself down.
    “You’re Number 16.”
    “Yes.”
    “I’ve got something for you” he said and ferreted about in his post bag.
    “Something for me?”
    “Yes” he said ferreting about in his postbag “here you are sir.”
    “It’s a picture postcard” 16 said.
    “That’s right.”
    “Who would be sending me a picture postcard?”
    “It’s from Number 2” the postman said “he says having a wonderful time, the weather is fine, going to the beach later. Wish you were here.”

    “You’ve read this?”
    “Yes.”
    “It’s private.”
    “It’s a postcard” the postman said “postcards are fair game!”
    No.16 turned the postcard over, the picture was of the pink and white Georgian house “What fool sends postcards to people here?”
    The postman picked up his Penny Farthing bicycle “I shouldn’t say that too loud sir; you never know who might be listening.”
    “You’re not going to try and ride that thing again are you?”
    “It goes with the job” the postman said “might I ask you if you know the way to Gatehouse Passage.”
    “I’ve never heard of it.”
    “Oh well I expect I’ll find it” and with that the postman pushed the Penny Farthing then mounting the bicycle he peddled off, wobbling about the road as he went.
    No.16 read the postcard, it was just as the postman had said, turning it over he looked at the picture of the pink and white house, which was through the turquoise wrought iron gates nearby.
    “Of course I sent you the postcard, when on holiday people send postcards” No.2 said cheerfully.
    “People who want others to know where they are do. Just a minute, you’re on holiday?” 16 asked.
    “Yes.”
    “You’re on holiday in the village?”
    “Yes.”
    “And you’re staying here?”
    “Of course, would you like some tea?”
    “It’s a bit grand” No.16 commented “Georgian isn’t it?”
    “Yes but only on the outside” 2 replied from the dinette busy making the tea.
    “So who is in the Green Dome?”
    “An interim Number 2, while I’m on holiday.”
    “You know ever since I went out this morning I have encountered nothing but eccentrics!”
    No.2 carried the tea things on a tray into the lounge “And you count me as one of those eccentrics?”
    “Where is he?”
    “Who?”
    “Your butler?”
    “Oh he’s in the Green Dome serving the interim Number 2, milk and sugar?”
    “Yes please, just a splash and two lumps. You could have gone anywhere for a…..no just a minute, whoever heard of Number 2 going on holiday, I’d have thought they’re never here long enough to warrant a holiday!”
    No.2 added milk and sugar and handed No.16 his cup of tea “Well quite, but nevertheless I intend to enjoy my holiday.”

    The grand pink and white Georgian house certainly looked its part set in its own private garden, and at the bottom of the garden, at the end of a long path, a pair of turquoise iron gates. And yet as he closed the gates and looked back, there was even something eccentric about it, because despite is grandeur the grand looking Georgian house was after all, a poky little cottage! 
    There was an archway in a wall on the opposite side of the road through which a middle aged man appeared.
    “Excuse me sir” he said.
    “Why what have you done?” No.16 asked.
    “Done, I’ve done nothing, why should you have thought I had done something?”
    “No reason. What do you want?”
    “I wondered if you can direct me to Gatehouse passage.” No.88 asked
    No.16 stood there in the road thinking, I couldn’t think of anywhere in the village called Gatehouse passage.
    A cyclist rang her bell to warn us of her approach, she stopped “Is there anything wrong?” the woman asked.
    “This man is asking directions to Gatehouse Passage.”
    “Gatehouse Passage, I’m not sure. I think its back up the road, through the first arch; no it’s not that way.”
    Two pedestrians stopped to help “What’s the problem? They asked
    “Gatehouse Passage” No.16 said.
    “Gatehouse Passage, Gatehouse Passage of yes it’s through the arch, across the Piazza.”
    “No” said another “it’s not that way, you want to do along the road, passed the café, no not that way. Look you need to go…….”
    Quite a crowd had now gathered all giving quite different directions to Gatehouse Passage.
    “It’s round the back of the Town Hall isn’t it?” No.176 suggested studying his map of the village.
    “No, if you go out of the village and take the first turning on the left……”
    “If you go back the way you came, passed the café and watchmakers shop….”
   In the control room an Observer reported a disturbance in the road.
    “Let’s have it on the screen” the Supervisor ordered.
    The large wall screen was activated displaying a large throng of people all gesticulating this way and that.
    “That’s vision, now let’s have the audio” the Supervisor said.
    The control room was suddenly filled with different voices all giving directions to Gatehouse Passage.
    “Alright turn off the audio. Gatehouse Passage, I’ve never heard of it” said the Supervisor.
   An Observer turned round in her chair “If you go down the road, turn left, down the steps, along the cobbled lane…….”
    “No you’re wrong” said No.20 “It’s that short path just after the pink Pavilion.
    “Surely not” said one of the Observers of the steel See-Saw “If you go passed the Labour Exchange, through the Triumphal arch, round by the bridge its just on the left.”
    “No you’re wrong” said No.20.
    “Stop” the Supervisor shouted suddenly “does it really matter?”
    “It does if you want Gatehouse passage sir.”

   Outside in the road it was at this point that No.16 remembered that none of the roads and paths are named in the village, so there was no Gatehouse Passage. So he left the crowd of people in the road, and went for a quiet stroll. Eccentric behaviour in the village is no better exhibited than by those citizens who promenade daily around the Piazza for no better reason other than to be seen. Unless it was one individual who stood listening to a loudspeaker of the public address system.
    “Do you hear that” asked the man in a striped jersey with his ear cocked towards the loudspeaker.
    No.16 stood still and listened “No” he said.
    “No, neither do I, see you soon!”

    Deciding to make for the Outlook above the cliff, No.16 made his way along the road passed the Green Dome, through the first arch under 12 Private, then along the road taking the narrow path to the right called Gatehouse Passage……at least that’s what the sign on the wall said. 
    It was a clear bright afternoon as No.16 sat on the wall of the Outlook, enjoying the view he had enjoyed so many times before. The tide was in and the late afternoon sunshine glistered on the water turning it to silver. Suddenly No.16 heard voices, he peered over the edge of the Outlook, but all there was, was a steep drop to the beach. Of the two people talking he could see nothing, they are in the grotto beneath the Outlook. Sitting quietly he listened to see if he could hear what the two people were saying. They clearly thought they were in the perfect place not to be overheard.
    “We must wait for the signal.”
    “Signal, what signal?”
    “When we see the signal we know they are on their way. They are our liberators.”
    “How do you know this?”
    “My code name is XB4 and I have a transistor radio. I’m expecting a message any time now.”

    The two voices fell silent, No.16 strained his ears to listen, he was sure that someone, probably XB4, was tuning in a radio. Then…

    “Nowhere is there more beauty than here. Tonight when the moon rises, the whole world will turn to silver. Do you understand, it is important you understand. I have a message for you, you must listen, the appointment cannot be fulfilled. Other things must be done tonight. If our torment is to end, if liberty is to be restored we must grasp the nettle even though it makes our hands bleed. Only through pain can tomorrow be assured.”

    The radio transmission was picked up in the control room.
    “That message, can we get a fix on it?” the supervisor wanted to know.
    The communications monitor triangulated the radio signal with two other monitoring stations positioned around the village.
    “Supervisor, the origin of the radio transmission has been located.”
    “Good, where?” the supervisor said keen to know.
    “Here….in the village!”
    “The voice” began the supervisor “If you were to ask me…….”
    “Ask you what?” said the interim No.2 from the gantry.
    “The voice sir, it sounded like a former Number 2!”
    “Really, how curious!” No.2 said.
     “Supervisor, Number 16 is climbing the Bell Tower again” a Observer reported.
    “Why does he do that?” No.60 asked.

    “Because he’s an eccentric” the Supervisor replied “no more reason than that, the village is full of them!”

    So no-one was coming! And yet from that day No.16 kept a keen lookout for a sign, a light, a plane, ship someone from his World. Daily he even climbed the Bell Tower which in itself could seem to be an eccentricity. Yet as 16 found, there are more steps leading down from the top of the Bell Tower than there are going up, and you cannot get more eccentric than that!

Be seeing you

Village Life!

 

     Another day in the village, and our two friends from administration are once again on their way to the Town Hall, they always pass by this way, and at the same time of day.
    “Are you sure this is going to work?”
    “Why shouldn’t it, we will become two top hat officials from administration going about our daily business, or at least we shall be once we’ve clobbered those two and taken their uniforms!”
    “I don’t like it, two uniforms, where will that get us?”
    “It will get us aboard the helicopter, then the pilot has to fly us out of the village.”
    “Why should the pilot do that?”
    “Because we’re on special assignment, I’ve made notes of these types coming and going.”
    “What about the Observers?”
    “There are two cameras covering the area by Atlas’s column.”
    “Hercules.”
    “Hercules.”
    “How do you know that’s Hercules?”
    “Because of the lion skin draped over him, Hercules took the world on his shoulders for a time while Atlas went off and did something else.”
     “Well whatever it is, we’ll way lay the two top hats and drag them into the pink pavilion, and change into their uniforms. Then at two o’clock when the helicopter is due to leave that’s when we make our move.”

    The next day………..
    “I didn’t know you knew Jujitsu!”
    “I wonder what those two wanted?”
    “You didn’t give them a chance to ask, you had one of them in a head lock, what’s that hold called?”
    “Oh an old soldier taught me that one; it’s called a deadly Dervish death grip.”
    “I’m seeing you in a whole new light.”
    “Think nothing of it my dear chap.”
    “Well I think we deserve a cup of tea, don’t you?”
    “What about the works committee meeting?”
    “Oh I think they can manage without us for a while, besides we’re in shock, we have been attacked, and you single handily fended off two desperadoes.”
    “Yes I did didn’t I.....and toasted teacakes?”
    “It’s the least a hero deserves!”
    “Shouldn’t we report the attack to control?”
    “No, after all the Observers know about it, after all they do see and hear everything.”
    “Yes they will, won’t they, have seen my bravery.”
    “Before you know it you’ll be up for an award.”
    “Do you think so?”
    “Of course not, pity about your crumpled top hat though.”
    “Yes, let’s go and have that cup of tea.”

Be seeing you

The Tally Ho

 

A Reported Breakdown In control!

by our own reporter

    This No.2 saw himself as the strong man, the hammer! And yet he was afraid, afraid that everyone in the village was against him. He called for increased surveillance because he saw conspiracy everywhere. Apparently there were unknown enemies within the village. We may not necessarily know who they are, but the community must be ever on its guard against them. As it happened all this was in No.2’s mind, all due to the man’s paranoia, that he saw how every was against him. He saw enemies everywhere, that those within the administration were all conspiring against him. Where they get such weak minded men as this I do not know.
    However to understand this man and his paranoid mind, you have to ask yourself what was it that first made this interim No.2 begin to suspect people were against him? I expect the psychologists will work with this former interim No.2, and will eventually get to the bottom of it. Because that is where this man is now, in the psychiatric wing of the hospital, and is likely to spend the rest of his days there. I am reliably informed that he blames D6 for all his troubles. But surely he means 6d, and he begs the doctors to have control contact XO4 who will have him extracted from the village. The doctors are sympathetic of course to the case, and are controlling the former interim No.2 with a cocktail of drugs. And yet he was so adamant in his story that one psychologist got the new Interim No.2 to check out the patient’s story. The result being that no record could be found of this D6, or 6d for that matter. As for XO4, there was no reference in any of the village files. Surveillance footage of No.6 and No.2 did indicate that it was No.2 who first made reference to both XO4 and D6. When questioned about these two code names No.6 said he was merely humouring No.2, after all it was No.2 who suggested that he was a plant sent here by No.2’s masters, to check security, to check on him! And yet the note written by No.6 confirms that it was he who actually made the first reference to D6 and XO4 in the note.
    No.14 didn’t help, and yet in the important matters, where No.14 could have been of real assistance, No.2 kept him at arm’s length. No.14 came to a bad end. I saw the body of No.14 lying on the ground in a tangled mass of metal railings which were once part of 6 Private’s balcony!
    No doubt there will be another interim No.2 who will come along soon, but if he turns out to be any better than those of his predecessors will remain to be seen. It’s one thing for any No.2 to succeed, to fail, to get lucky and save the situation by the skin of his teeth. But it’s another when No.2 reports himself as being a breakdown in control, telling No.1 that No.2 needs to be replaced. That must have hurt his pride. No.6 effectively destroyed No.2, but no action was taken against him. Perhaps the power that be, No.1, enjoyed watching No.6 and his “jamming” activities against No.2. As for this No.2, its highly probable that after having reported himself as being a breakdown in control, he was transferred to the head of psychiatrics tender and care on the psychiatric ward of the hospital. A broken man in need to be made better! 

Be seeing you

The Day of The Funeral

 

    The maintenance and workshop was as busy as usual, if there wasn’t a cottage interior to remodel, decorate, fit out and furnish there were the fleet of taxis to maintain. One of the white Mini-Mokes was in at the moment.
    “Right lads” No.92 the foreman began “one of the jobs today is to fit the taxi with either a dark blue or black and white striped canopy”
    “Why’s that then?” No.70 asked.
    “Because today is the day of the funeral that’s why, and they need a hearse.”
    “Who’s funeral?” 115 asked.
    “Must be for that chap who jumped from a hospital window and killed himself” No.41 said.
    “And I need someone to go to the beach, just below the lighthouse and set out a number of head stones in the sand” the foreman said.
    “That’s a queer thing for anyone to do” 70 said finishing his tea.
    “Queer or not it’s got to be done because it’s on the worksheet.”
    “So one of us” 115 said “has got to take a load of headstones down to the beach and make it look like a cemetery, why’s that then?”
    “Well they’re having a funeral today, I expect they want somewhere to bury the body” the foreman said.
    “Funny place to hold a funeral, on the beach!” 41 said.
   “Well funny or not you had best get on with it, there’s some wood over in the corner, you can fashion a few headstones out of those” he told No.41 “oh yes and you’ll need a shovel.”
    “Why me?”
    “Because you’re a chosen man” 115 and 70 said in unison.
    “Yes” said the foreman “and you two can get busy fitting the black and white striped canopy to the Mini-Moke, and while you’re about it replace the white canopy of that hospital trailer with a black one, and remove the Red Cross.”
    And so they got to work, but it was a long drive along the sea wall and out along the cliff path, sitting on what was nothing more than a garden lawn mower! Reaching the lighthouse No.41 stopped and began to off load the wooden headstones and carried them over the rocks to the beach where he dug in the sand. Then having erected a number of them he set about digging a grave. But he was not alone in this task, he had been joined by No.247 who had been sent along to lend a hand.

    The funeral cortege consisted of the Brass band, the village hearse, a Top Hat administrative official in black top hat, black suit, and overcoat, and a number of mourners carrying open black umbrellas. A middle aged woman wearing a red trilby hat and a colourful striped umbrella followed at the back of the cortege. The cortege travelled through the village, passed the Town Hall and down the hill towards the Old People’s Home as the brass band playing the Radetzky March. Then across the lawn of the Old People’s Home, through the gates and along the path towards the old cottage, through the arches and along the path until the taxi came to a stop. It was then that four pall bearers removed the flowers and lifted the coffin out of the trailer and following the brass band they carried it along the cliff path towards the lighthouse followed by the Top Hat administrative official and the number of citizens with their black umbrellas. Reaching the lighthouse the cortege made its way over the rocks down onto the sand, then walked in procession towards the cemetery where two grave diggers waited by an open grave, into which the coffin was lowered and all this while the band played the Radetzky March as the people gathered at the graveside. This was observed by the woman in the red trilby hat from the top of the cliffs. There was no ceremony, no words spoken over the grave, the people dispersed while the Top Hat official stood watching as the two gravediggers began to backfill the grave.
    “When you’ve finished you can remove the head stones.”
    “We can what?” No.41 asked.
    “I’m not in a habit of repeating myself” the official said.
    “I suppose you want us to dig up the coffin as well!”
    “That will not be necessary” the official said and walked away along the beach back towards the village.
    “What was all that about, why does he want us to remove the headstones?” No.247 asked.
    “I suppose he doesn’t want them washed away with the tide!” 41 replied pulling a headstone out of the sand.
    No.247 stood thinking “If this isn’t a cemetery, I wonder if there was an actual body in that coffin?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “It just looked a bit lightweight that’s all!”
    No.41 was busy taking up the headstones “You mean the funeral was staged?!”
    “Shall we dig the coffin up and see?”
    No.41 thought for a moment then said “Why should they go to all that bother to stage a funeral?”
   “Why do they do anything here?” 247 said “come on let’s finish up here, I could do with a cup of tea.”
   Had they looked up they would have seen a woman in a red trilby hat and striped cape hurrying along the cliff path back towards the village, and a man in a brown piped blazer following at a discreet distance.

Be seeing you

Village Life!

 

    “You know it makes me wonder.”
    “Wonder, what about?”
    “About where they find all these various interim Number 2’s, I hear there’s a new one arriving later today.”
    “Well he had better be better than the last one!”
    “Wasn’t up to much, was he?”
    “Life here certainly didn’t suit him.”
    “Calling for an increase in surveillance was one thing, but seeing conspiracy everywhere was another.”
    “He saw everyone as being against him, were you against him?”
    “I don’t know of anyone who was, I know he did put a few backs up!”
    “I think Number 6 did the village a favour.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “In the way he carried out acts of jamming against Number 2.”
    “And Number 21 didn’t do anything to intervene on Number 2’s behalf.”
    “I heard he had, but Number 2 refused the offer of assistance.”
    “What about Number 14, he could have done more to help his superior.”
    “Yes but Number 2 thought he could manage.”
    “Number 2 couldn’t manage a booze-up in a brewery!”
    “Number 14 came to a bad end, when’s the funeral?”
    “Tomorrow.”
    “You know I wouldn’t mind having a go at that Kosho thing.”
    “Really? I didn’t think you were the sporty type.”
    “I’ve played croquet you know.”
    “I had no idea, I myself am quite proficient at Ludo, I was southern Counties champion three years running.”
    “You mean Judo don’t you?”
    “Do I? Well I always use my own counters, and I shake those dice…….”
    “Well we can only trust the next interim has a bit more about him.”

    “If only I had just a little bit more time!”
    “We’re running late as it is.”
    “I know that!”

 Be seeing 

60 Seconds With No.2

 

    No.113 "Well that went well."
    No.2 "You think so do you?"
    "Bringing someone to the village that bears a remarkable resemblance to Number Six."
    No.113b "Smile" {click goes the camera}
    "What?"
    "Why is he here?"
    "That is Number Six."
    "Oh I see, started already have you, I understand."
    "What?!"
    "You've brought this man to the village to impersonate Number Six."
    "But that is Number Six."
    "I didn't know that a blind fold was part of security?"
    "I didn't want Number Six seeing......look who are you?"
    "I'm number one-one three, and this is my photographic colleague number one-one-three b, we contribute to The tally Ho you know."
    "No I didn't know. Look what do you want?"
    "Well we noticed that Number Six was about to leave the village."
    "Not leave, we've just brought him back."
    "So had he already left?"
    "No."
    "But you said you've brought him back to the village, so to do that meant he'd have had to have left!"
    "Well he did. He just got out of the helicopter."
    "Where did he get in the helicopter?"
    "In the village."
    "But this is the village."
   "Yes he's just arrived!"
   "Has he, I thought..................."
   "Now if you don't mind, there's just been an arrival, and I have to de-brief the Prisoner."
   "An arrival, when?"
   "Just then."
   "But that's Number Six, he's been here all the time."
   "Has this got anything to do with the rumour that Number 6 is dead, killed by Rover?"
   "Look, you just saw Number Six get out of the helicopter, alright?"
   "Oh I get it."
   "Good."
   "He's been brought here to impersonate Number 6, because he's been killed by Rover!"
   "Oh anything you like!"
   "Yes Number Two, very clever of you. I hope you get away with it!"

Reporter Number 113
Photographer Number 113b