The Prisoner - An Exercise In Logistics Chapter "Episode" 19

 

Menace From The Deep

   “Probably no legendary creature was as horrifying as the Kraken, a giant sea monster.”

    Somewhere on the sea bed, there lurks a malevolent beast, which while contained brings no harm to no man. Yet once the Kraken is released….. In the murky sea something stirs, a slight heaving motion. Then a gurgling sound, something resembling a large bubble is released. It rises upwards from the depths. It’s membrane contorted by the pressure of the water, taking on a white hue, to finally burst through onto the surface of the water emitting its blood curdling roar, and skims away across the sea.

    For Number 6 the day began as any other day. Having washed, shaved, and dressed, his breakfast consisting of Village corn flakes, the box containing a small plastic toy {in this case a Village taxi} toast, and strong black coffee to fortify him for the rigours of the day. Leaving the kitchen he crossed the lounge, pulled back the curtains and peered out through the window. For once the sun was not shining. The usually blue sky was obscured by dense grey clouds, what’s more it was raining! Finishing his second cup of coffee he put on his green anorak and braced himself for his morning constitutional around The Village. Once outside one could wax lyrical about the weather, the air crisp and clear, and so invigorating at that time of day. The rain on your face, the wind on your cheek, but this morning it was just plain wet and windy! There were usually few people milling about at that early hour of the day, but this morning there was even fewer citizens out and about, due no doubt to the inclement weather. And those who were, had their faces buried beneath colourful striped umbrellas which they fought against being blown inside out by the wind. Number 6 pulled the collar of his anorak as high as he could, buried his hands deep in the pockets, faced up to the wind and rain, and walked on. He declined climbing the Bell Tower, but had he done so he would have observed a disturbance on the surface of the water in the estuary. First air bubbles, then two black shapes broke through onto the surface of the water and swam towards the slipway, where two other figures in blue wetsuits stood watching their companions. The two scuba divers emerged from the water, removed their goggles and flippers and walked up the slipway to join their companions, and removed the air tanks strapped to their backs. By this time Number 6 had completed his early morning circuit of The Village, and thought about taking a taxi down to the Old People’s Home at the bottom of the hill. Today was only fit for indoor activities, and he knew the Brigadier was always eager for a game of chess, often the best of three. There was not one taxi to be had due to the inclement weather, their candy-striped canopies affording little or no protection against the elements. As he walked down the road towards the Old People’s Home, he happened to glance over the stone wall and saw Number 313 walking away from the end of the slipway. She was wearing a black wetsuit, and carrying a pair of flippers, goggles and an air tank.

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   The best of three chess games ended in a two – one win for the Brigadier who was feeling rather chuffed with himself as he busied himself setting up the chessmen on the board. Number 6 had not been on his best form, something was niggling away at him in the back of his mind.

    “You’re at it again” said the Brigadier “that won’t do you know.”

    “At what again?” Number 6 asked.

    “You’re thinking. That’s got you into trouble before” the Brigadier warned him “best leave well alone, that’s my advice.”

    “I wouldn’t call it thinking exactly, something niggling me in the back of my mind, that’s all. It’s not really important” he replied.

    “Better not be Six, you know what Voltaire said” offered the Brigadier.

    “No, what did he say?”

    “Men use thought only to justify their injustices, and only to conceal their thoughts.”

    “Injustice……here in The Village? surely not!” 6 said sarcastically pushing the chair back and standing up.

    “Take care as you go Number Six.”

    “Oh it’s not so bad” said Number 6 glancing out of the window “It seems to have stopped raining.”

    “You know what I mean.”

    “Yes I know, I’ll be seeing you.”

    “You should take up a hobby Number six, a pastime, something to

keep you out of trouble” the Brigadier suggested.

    Number 6 raised an arm in response, as he went. Outside the weather had indeed moderated. The rain had stopped, the wind merely a breeze, and even the grey clouds had parted to reveal a patch of blue sky. And somewhere in the back of his mind, the bright spark of an idea, to which 313 would be the key.

    Number 2 sat behind the desk in his office. A well built man in his late forties, wearing dark trousers, a white shirt, cravat, and a crimson velvet jacket. He sat watching the wall screen, observing Number 6 walking through The Village who stopped at a kiosk and purchased a copy of The Village Mercury magazine, and a bag of liquorice allsorts and having passed the time of day with the kiosk holder went on his way.

    “That’s odd” Number 2 thought to himself not taking his eyes off the screen “suspicious even.” Leaning forward he pressed a button on the control panel of his desk, zooming in on, and following the subject as he walked along the street “Your thoughts betray you Number Six” 2 said to himself “they are written all over your face. If only I could read them. That brain of yours, it’s always ticking over with some idea or other. What’s going on up there now?”

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    “Hello Number Six, fancy bumping into you!” Number 313 said.

    “Yes fancy” he replied “a difficult thing not to do in this place.”

    Number 313 a young woman with shoulder length auburn hair, tallish with a trim figure. Her blue trilby hat cocked to one side, she wore a light blue jersey and dark blue slacks, practical shoes, and a colourful striped cape stirred gently by the breeze.

   “What have you being doing this morning?” she asked casually.

   He took the bag of liquorice allsorts out of a pocket in his anorak and offered it to her. She declined, but Number 6 took a pink one, his favourite allsort, and replaced the bag in his pocket.

   “I’ve been playing chess with the Brigadier. What have you been up to?”

    “I’m a member of the Aqua Club, and we decided to go diving early today” she explained “that’s what I had been doing when you saw me.”

    “Aqua Club?” quizzed Number 6.

    “Special dispensation from Number Two himself” she explained.

    “You go diving?”
    “Well there wouldn’t be any point of an Aqua Club if we didn’t go diving, there is an old wreck in the estuary, its wooden timbers jutting out from the sandy bed, and we dive on the wreck” she said smiling.

    “How many members are there in the Aqua club?”
     “Half a dozen.”
    “It seems rather selective.”
    “Not everyone can scuba dive” she told him.

    “How long has the Aqua club been going?” he asked.

    “A while, is it important?”

    “Can anyone join?” he asked casually.

    “You Number six, wanting to get involved voluntarily?” she said in mocking surprise.

    “I’ve done some diving in the past” he told her.

    “Are you thinking of becoming a member?” she asked.

    “Well I might. I keep myself active at the gymnasium. And well being able to go diving on occasion, it would be an interesting diversion.”

    “I dare say” she said.

    “Perhaps we could go for tea or coffee at the café and talk about it further?” he suggested.

   In the Control Room the Supervisor-Number 28 stood watching the wall screen. It displayed Number 6 and Number 313 sat at a table on the patio of the café. They were taking tea together, talking and apparently enjoying each others company.

    “Audio” the Supervisor ordered.

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    “I wouldn’t have thought Number Two the kind of person to permit such an activity as diving. It’s dangerous, and besides it offers an escape route” he said sipping his tea.

   “What do you mean Six? That one day we may take it into our heads to go diving, and not bother to come back!”

    “Something like that” he said putting the cup down on its saucer.

    “That idea may have occurred to you, but not to people who are perfectly happy here!” she said picking up her cup, and then put it down again.

    “There is a price we have to pay for the club” she told him.

    “Price? Oh you mean a subscription” he said sipping his tea

    “No, occasionally we are instructed by Number 2, to carry out underwater work” she said draining her tea cup.

    “What kind of underwater work?” he asked.

    “It’s classified, I can’t talk about it” she replied.

    He replenished their cups from the teapot “How does one go about joining the Aqua Club?”
    “You speak to the club secretary.”
    “Who is the club secretary?”
    “I am!”

    “Then you are just the person I need to talk to, as I wish to make an application to join the Aqua Club.”
    “Applications need to be put to Number Two, but I doubt he would authorise your membership.”
   “Number Two!” he said, suddenly having the wind blown out of his sails!

   “Number Two is the administrator of the Aqua Club” she told him.

   “Well you know me. You’re the club’s secretary; you can put a good word in for me.”
    “I don’t know you, I’ve heard of you, there is a difference you know.”

    In the Control Room, the supervisor picked up a yellow ‘L’ shaped telephone “Put me through to Number Two.”

    Number 2 had just been served tea in his office by the butler. All seemed proper and correct until…..

    “Just a minute! What about the biscuits?” Number 2 said peering at the three rich tea biscuits on the tea plate.

    “Biscuits, what about them?” the butler enquired in something of a sarcastic tone.

    “Haven’t we any proper biscuits?”
    “What do you mean by proper biscuits?”
    “Yes, proper biscuits, the ones with the cream inside.”

    “They are proper biscuits, rich tea biscuits, served with mid morning tea. Elevenses its called” instructed the butler
    “Elevenses, what at ten o’clock?!”
    “It’s not my fault, although I thought it was a bit early. But seeing as you ordered tea, I thought best include biscuits.”

    “I see” said Number 2.

    “Will that be all?” the butler asked.

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    “I suppose so” Number 2 told him.

    The butler turned and walked towards the ramp leading to the pair of steel doors “He’ll be wanting slab cake with his tea next!”

    The steel doors opened and closed cutting the butler’s words from Number 2’s ears. The turquoise ‘L’ shaped telephone began to bleep. Number 2 leaned forward in his chair putting down the tea plate and picking up the telephone and pressed the square chrome button announcing himself.

    “Number Two here.”

    “Supervisor here. I thought you should know that Number Six is

cosying up to Three-one-three.”

    “Where are they?” Number 2 asked.
    “At the café, taking tea” reported the Supervisor, remembering his own tea break was coming up.

   Number 2 put down his cup and saucer and pressed a button on the control panel bringing the wall screen to life displaying Number 6 sitting with 313 at a table on the patio at the cafe. To Number 2 there seemed to be an air of indifference between the two.

    “I thought you said Number Six was getting cosy with Number Three-one-three?” he said into the telephone.

    “I thought it seemed more than simply friendliness between them” the Supervisor replied.

     Number 2 pressed another button to get the audio.

    “More tea?” Number 6 asked.

    “No thank you” she replied.

    Number 6 helped himself to more tea, then put the teapot down.

    “The weather has cleared up nicely” 313 remarked.

    “Decidedly inclement first thing” he said casually.

    “Thank you for the tea, perhaps we’ll meet again.”
    “Don’t see how we can avoid it in this place!”

    “Be seeing you.”   
    “And you” he replied.
    “You have the earlier audio recorded?” Number 2 asked into the telephone.

    “Of course Number two.”

    “Well?”
   “A brief summery would be that Number Six was questioning Three-one-three about the aqua club. How long its been going, how many members, and wanting to know how one can become a member” the Supervisor reported.

    “Did he now. I wondered how long it would take him” Number 2 said thoughtfully.

    “He wants Three-one-three to put a good word in with you on his behalf.”

    “Does he by jove, the cheek of the man!”

    “But what do you want me to do?” asked the Supervisor.

    “Nothing!”
    “Nothing?”
    “Nothing for the moment. unless you get the word from me. Just maintain surveillance on our friend Number Six. Otherwise just leave him to me.”

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    “To you Number Two?”
    “Well as administrator of the Aqua club Number Six will have to apply to me directly for membership.”
    “That could be dangerous.”
    “Not when his application is rejected on the spot, and yet as an experienced diver he could be useful to us.”
    “Like I said” the Supervisor said “that could be dangerous!”

    Number 6 had made his way to the Green Dome, the door opened with the all too familiar electronic hum. He was greeted in the foyer by the butler who led the visitor through the pair of open French doors to the pair of opening steel doors.

    “Ah Number Six, do come in, do come in” bid Number 2.

    Number 6 walked down the ramp, while the butler stood in the open doorway.

    “Number Six to see you” the butler announced.
    “Alright, I can see him” said Number 2.

    “Only doing my job!” the butler informed him.

    “Well Number six?”
    “Can’t complain, well I could, but I doubt you would listen!”

    “Can I offer you anything?”

    Number 6 stood watching the lava effect on the wall screen “No thank you.”

    “I find it soothing and relaxing” Number 2 said.

    ”Number Three-one-three” Number 6 said turning from the screen.

    “What about her? Oh yes, I remember you asked her to put a good word in for you about joining the aqua club.”
    “My what big ears your Observers do have!”

    “So you wish to apply to join the aqua club, there is a question regarding your motivation” Number 2 told him.

    “My motivation?”
    “For wanting to become a member of the club” Number 2 said “generally speaking, there is one thing which motivates you Number Six, escape!”

    “You have a low opinion of me.”

    “You thought that if you were able to join the aqua club this would give you access to diving equipment, thereby given the opportunity of escape by underwater means” Number 2 explained with confidence.

    “So I take it there will be no need for me to face The Test!” quipped Number 6.

    “The Test?” said Number 2.

    “I think you overestimate me” said Number 6.
    “Just as long as you do not underestimate me!”

    “I have read your file since joining us here, your application to join the aqua club is denied.”
    “I haven’t made an application yet” Number 6 told him.

    “Well I’m saving you the trouble of doing so! Good day Number Six.”

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    Leaving the Green Dome, Number 6 made his way through The Village to the Recreation Hall, and therein the gymnasium.  He changed into a dark blue tracksuit. He fenced with Number 237, sparred with Number 48, and enjoyed a bout of Judo. Three perfect throws and he vanquished his opponent, this was followed by three rounds in the boxing ring. Then water-skiing to cool off, but he lost his grip of the tow rope and was left floundering in the water until picked up by the man in the speed boat.

    Number 6’s sporting activities had not gone unobserved.
    “At least he’s keeping himself occupied” Number 2 said into the yellow telephone.
    “What action do I take?” asked the Supervisor.
    “None, not unless he attempts to escape aboard that speed boat!”

    And yet to the Supervisor’s surveillance eye it appeared that Number 6 lost contact with the boat on purpose in order to disappear beneath the waves not to reappear for several moments...but why?

   The speed boat with Number 6 back on board, wrapped up in a large towel, sped towards the shore. The water had been freezing cold, and Number 6 needed a hot bath and hot drink. The boat drew alongside the slipway, and Number 6 stepped sprightly ashore as two motor mechanics caught the two mooring ropes to secure the boat. He walked up the slipway looking at the apartment building in front of him. The ground floor had two white lattice gates, above the gates hung a sign ‘Aqua Club.’ He headed along a stone path and crossed the lawn approaching the first lattice gate, it was secured by a stout padlock. He peered inside through the lattice work into the kitting out room. He could see a number of wetsuits hanging on the far wall. In the far corner a number of air tanks, with flippers in the other corner. On a table snorkels and face masks. He moved along to the second lattice gate, the compressor room. Again the gate was secured by a stout padlock, the compressor inside no doubt used to fill the air tanks, and when operating would make quite a noise. Number 6 shivered and remembered how cold he felt. And yet there was an idea forming in his mind that warmed his heart.

    The next day.

    “Hello Six, how are you?”
    “About the same the last time we spoke” he told her.

    “Number Two informed me that your application to joining the Aqua club had been rejected”
    “Even before I made any such application!” he replied.

    “Number Two must have jumped the gun!” she told him smiling.

    “It certainly wasn’t very sporting of him!”
    “You could always join The Village golf club!” she suggested.

    “Golf’s not my game” he told her.

    “What is your game Six?”
    “Two has read my file, I’m sure he could tell you.”
    “You asked me to put a word in for you.”

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    “Perhaps you put the poison instead!”
    “You’re suspicious of me!”
    “I’m suspicious of everyone here. Even more so of those who decide to befriend me” he told her.

    “Not everyone has an ulterior motive” she said.

    The two parted and went their separate ways.

    Number 6 made his way back to his cottage, where he made himself a late lunch. Handel’s Water Music was being played through the black loudspeaker.

    The day after.

    “Good morning” Number 313 said greeting him warmly.

    Number 6 hurried on with his walk.

    “Wait up Number Six. What’s the matter with you?” she asked, trying to keep up with him.

    He stopped suddenly, and turned to face her.

    “I trusted you” he told her.

    “You can trust me. I did my best to help you, and all I get in return is….”
    “You didn’t get me into the aqua club did you?”
    “You have your reputation to blame for that. Number Two doesn’t trust you, why is it so important to you anyway?”
    “It would have made things easier that’s all. Now I’ll have to break in” he told her.

    “Break in, break into where?”
    “Do try to keep up. Break into the aqua club!”
    “You should guard your words Six.”
    “Is that a threat?”
    “No, it’s a warning. You never know who might be listening” she told him sternly.

    “Well perhaps as club secretary you have keys to the club” he suggested.

    “She shook her head and looked disappointed in him.
    A cyclist rang her bell as she cycled passed.

    Two citizens passing in the opposite direction greeted them.

    “Lovely day” one of them said

    He returned their salute “Be seeing you.”

    Number 6 and Number 313 walked along together.

    “Surely you’re not thinking of escape? You are! This is ridiculous. How far do you think you can get?”
    “I don’t know until I try, perhaps not as far as the aqua club if I’m betrayed!”

    “Would I?”
    “I don’t know, would you?”

    They walked round the corner at the end of the street, walked on a little way, then ducked through an archway opposite the café. Then walked the short distance onto the Piazza, and stopped by the Pool

and fountain. Number 313 had been turning matters over in her mind, then said suddenly, and before she realised she had said it.

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    “Take me with you.”
    “I thought you of all people were happy here. Why the sudden change?”

    “For some The Village is a refuge, a place of safety and security. A haven, Shangri-la. But who can be truly happy here, for some it’s a

nightmare world full of anguish and pain!” she told him.

    “You, wouldn’t be playing me would you Three-one-three?”
    A startled look came over her face “Meaning?”
    “When you think The Village, no, when Number Two is about to lose me, you step in and suggest we escape together. Have you turned agent provocateur?”
    “Agent provocateur, how can you suggest such a thing?”
    “Me thinks the lady doth protest too much!”

    “If I was an agent provocateur I should report you” she told him sternly “don’t do it Six. I shouldn’t want anything to happen to you” she pleaded.

    “I’m touched by your concern.” he said and went on his way.

    In the late afternoon, Number 6 sat observing the activity around the Aqua Club, from a balustrade above the waterfall. There were four people there, Number 313 amongst them. She and another had gone off aboard a speed boat with diving equipment towards the mouth of the estuary. Two men busied themselves at the club itself, one working in the compressor room, another emerged from the kitting out room with a pair of air tanks and carried them into the compressor room. He wondered how it might be done. He could hardly stroll into the kitting out room, take the equipment he needed and simply stroll off with it tucked under his piped blazer! Even if that were possible, he might easily be disturbed, and the game would be up. Some sort of distraction was necessary. One of the two men emerged from the compressor room carrying two air tanks and carried them into the kitting out room. The man came out of the compressor room and looked out towards the estuary, Number 6 also looked out in that direction, and saw the speed boat powering its way through the water back towards the shore. The man strode out to the slip way where he waited for the boat’s return. The speed boat slowed its approach, finally drawing along side the slipway, and one of the divers throwing him a mooring rope, which he tied around a small mooring bollard. Number 313 and her fellow diver in blue wetsuits threw their flippers onto the slipway, the man then helping the divers ashore with their air tanks, picking up the flippers and walking back to the aqua club.

    In the Control Room the Supervisor was making a note on his computer slate, when an Observer turned away from his monitor.

   “Supervisor.”

   “Yes, what it is?”
   “Number Six is standing at the balustrade above the waterfall. He’s been sat there for over half an hour according to the timer of the surveillance camera” reported the Observer.

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    “What’s he doing?” asked the Supervisor.

    “He’s just standing there.”

    “Put up camera thirty-one, let’s have him on the screen” the Supervisor ordered.....scan.”
    “I think he’s watching the aqua club” offered an Observer.
    “I do believe he is” the Supervisor agreed picking up the yellow ‘L’ shaped telephone.
    “Number Two here what is it?”

    “It’s Number Six. He’s been keeping the aqua club under surveillance” the Supervisor reported.

    “He’s not going to let it go” Number 2 said “Well we had better keep Number Six under close surveillance.”

    “Yes Number Two.”

   Number 6 having returned to his cottage settled himself down in the lounge with a large whisky, he needed time, time to think. Then came footsteps and Number 313 stood framed in the open doorway.
    “How did you get in, I didn’t hear you knock!”
    “The door opened for me” she told him.

    “That is only supposed to do that for me” he told her.

    “What is?” she asked.

    “The door opening automatically like that.”
    “Does the door know that?”

    “Perhaps there is an operator of the door somewhere who presses a button each time I go out and come back in again” he suggested. 

    “Wouldn’t that be rather a waste of someone’s time don’t you think?” she asked, still standing on the threshold.

    “Perhaps. But that doesn’t answer the question of why the door opened for you!”

    “Maybe it does it for only really important people” 313 suggested.

    “Are you?” he asked.

    “Am I what?” she asked in reply.

    “Important.”
    “Not in the grand design of things, no. Are you?” she asked

    “Am I what?”
    313 rolled her eyes “Important?”
    “Only Number Two can answer that one!”

    “Can I offer you a drink?”
    “I don’t know, can you?” she teased.

    “Whisky, gin, or vodka? Non-alcoholic of course, but believe me, they don’t actually taste the same!” he told her.

    “Then why do you drink it?”
    “It’s the only drink in town!”

   “Gin and tonic” she said.
    “Sorry no tonic!”

    That evening the maid arrived at ‘6 Private’ in order to make Number 6 his evening nightcap of hot chocolate. Quiet, soothing music was being played through the black loudspeaker, a ‘lullaby for Isabelle.’ The maid emerged from the kitchen carrying a cup and saucer, which she took into the bedroom, placing it on the bedside table. Emerging from the bedroom she bid Number 6 goodnight.

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    “Goodnight” he replied as the maid departed the cottage closing the door behind her.

    Then over the lullaby came the announcement “Five minutes to curfew, the minutes are five.”

    Number 6 went to the door of his cottage, it opened automatically

for him, accompanied by the usual familiar electronic hum. He did not

go out, he simply stood there for a while looking through the open doorway and into the night. Then taking three steps back the door closed, and locked itself.

    “I can wait” he thought to himself “I will wait until dawn’s early light.”

    “Good morning, good morning,. Congratulations on yet another day” said the cheery female voice “the weather today will be fine and dry, but with a freshening breeze in the afternoon.”

    In the Control Room a shift change over was taking place, as night time changed to day time. The two Supervisors went through the night time reports, not that there were many, the night shift being the quietist time. Once the day shift has settled down, Number 35 was given the task of observing Number 6 through the day. So as he took his seat at the monitor he switched himself into ‘6 Private.’ He scanned the entire cottage, and found it to be unoccupied. He scanned the immediate area around the cottage, but there was no sign of Number 6. The Observer then widened his search area, he couldn’t find Number 6 anywhere.

    Turning away from his monitor Number 35 made his brief report to the Supervisor “I cannot find Number Six!”

    The Supervisor raised his eyebrows “That can’t be right, look again.”

    The Observer looked again, there was still no sign of Number 6. But what there was, was the back window of ‘6 Private’ which had been forced open! It was obvious that nothing had got in. So it stood to reason that something, or rather someone, had got out. And that he was long gone!

    Number 6 had bided his time until the electronic lock of his cottage door was automatically released. Then dressed in his dark blue track suit he quietly slipped out into the morning light holding a zip up bag.

He made his way behind the terraced cottages, and slipped through a passageway to the front of them and ducking down so to avoid the surveillance camera set on a plinth, then down the steps, across the road, down more steps to hide amongst the Rhododendrons. He popped his head up, all clear. Emerging from the Rhododendrons he slipped smartly down the cobbled lane and down the steps across from the Statue of Hercules with the World on his shoulders. He stopped at the balustrade above the waterfall, then went down the steps to the right, ahead of him was the Aqua club. The latticed gate of the kitting out room was padlocked which he picked with a stout piece of wire. Once inside he closed the lattice gate behind him he got to work. It took him a few minutes change into a wetsuit, picking up a pair of flippers, and face mask. He checked the pressure gauge of an air tank which indicated full, then the valve and mouthpiece. Then he put his deck shoes, and tracksuit into a polythene bag which he sealed with two stout rubber bands. He took off his wristwatch and put that into a self-sealing freezer bag, and placed them all together in the zipper bag. He picked up the air tank, face mask, snorkel, and flippers and hurried across out of the Kitting Out Room and along the path to the slipway. Strapping the air tank to his back along with the zipper bag, he put on his flippers, dipped the face mask in the water before putting it on. Then slipped into the water and disappeared below the surface.

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    Number 2 arrived in his office to the news that Number 6 could not be found anywhere!
    “We have looked everywhere” the Supervisor reported.
    “Have you checked the aqua club?”
    “Security are there now sir.”
    “And?”
    “They report......the aqua club has been broken into, and.....”
    “No, don’t tell me, I’m on my way to the Control Room!”

   The water of the estuary was cold, very cold, and the underwater current strong, visibility poor, the water murky. He decided to hug the coast, no point swimming out too far, on a northerly course at a depth of some 3 fathoms. The air tank would give him approximately 45 to 60 minutes for his dive, an hour to get as far away from the village as possible.

  The pair of steel doors slid open and Number 2 walked through onto the steel gantry of the Control Room. He stood at the rail for a moment looking down at the floor and the activity therein.

    “Sonar” he suddenly said.

    “Number Three-one-three informs me that a wetsuit and diving equipment are missing.”
    “You don’t say!” quipped Number 2.

    “I think we can do a little better than sonar” offered the Supervisor “UDS.”
    “UDS, what’s that?”

    “Undersea Defence System, it’s a newly installed anti-swimmer defence surveillance system” the Supervisor explained.

    “I thought we had the Guardian?” Number 2 said.

    “Yes Number Two, but now we also have UDS” smiled the Supervisor.

    “With underwater surveillance cameras?” asked Number 2.

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    “No, loudhailers, and acoustics” returned the Supervisor “with a range of one thousand yards.”

    “Excellent” said Number 2 rubbing his hands together “we have him!”

    Number 2 joined the UDS operator “What’s that?” he asked

pointing to the screen.

    “A shoal of fish” replied the operator.

    “How do you know?”
    “Experience, the size and shape of the target is wrong” the operator explained not taking his eyes off the screen. He turned a couple of knobs, refining the sweep of the detector, then suddenly…

    “Target acquired” announced the operator “almost out of range.”

    “Orange alert” Number 2 ordered.

    “Belay that order” said the Supervisor.

    Number 2 glared at the Supervisor.

    “Talk to him Number Two” the Supervisor offered.

    “Talk to him?”

    “Though the underwater loudhailer” said the Supervisor “I promise you it will disorientate him” the Supervisor said handing him the grey telephone.

    Number 2 thought what to say, then pressed the chrome button and spoke “This simply will not do Number Six. It simply will not do. Turn back before its too late, turn back before it’s too late!”

    Number 6’s swimming was instantly disrupted as the sound of Number 2’s voice reverberated through the water hurting the scuba divers ears. He trod water for a few seconds, peering into the murky water all around him, half expecting Number 2 to come looming towards him out of any direction. There was no-one. He checked his compass bearing, then the air pressure gauge, and swam on.

    “Can we be sure he heard my voice?” Number 2 asked.

    “We can” the Supervisor said with confidence.

    “Still in contact with target” reported the UDS operator.

    Number 6 swam to the surface in order to gain a visual bearing. There was the coast, a tree lined cliff face, with a rocky shore. He looked back to the way he had come, and then out to sea, there was no sign of a boat, no helicopter in the sky. Replacing the mouthpiece, he dived into the water and swam on, but now he quickened the pace. He knew they were onto him, but where were they?

   In the Control Room Number 2 was considering his next step “We should release the Guardian.”
    “There is another way” said the Supervisor.

    “Nothing from the power boat yet?”
   “Nothing” said the Supervisor “but she is in the area, the crew making a search inshore.”

   “Inshore, why not out in deeper water?”
   “His air will not last him much longer.”

    Number 2 continued to pace the floor, an anguished look on his face “Orange alert” he ordered.
    “There is another course of action we could take” said the Supervisor “to activate the in-directional acoustic impulse, set to minimum strength.”

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    “What will that do?” Number 2 asked.

    “It will send a shockwave through the water, and anything within its range, a scuba diver for example, will be stunned and send his body to the surface” explained the Supervisor.

    “He’ll drown!” Number 2 exclaimed.

    “Not if it’s timed right” said the Supervisor with a smile.

    Number 2 considered his options and found that he was entirely in the Supervisor’s hands. He nodded.
    The Supervisor gave the order “Activate the in-directional acoustic impulse, set to minimum strength,”

   Almost instantly a sonic ripple was sent through the water and through the body of Number 6, stunning him instantly. His limp body began to sink in the water, his mouth opened the mouthpiece fell out and water poured into his lungs through his mouth. At that precise moment a contorted white shape appeared from the murky depths at speed, hitting the almost lifeless body of Number 6 with force, and maintaining the contact, pushed the body upwards to the surface of the sea. The crew of the power boat were maintaining their search off shore, then some little way ahead their attention was attracted by a spout of water, as the Guardian burst through onto the surface and remained there.

   “Hard to port” the Captain ordered the helmsman, who turned the power boat in the direction of the white sphere on the water.

   “Slow ahead” the Captain ordered peering ahead through his binoculars “there’s a body floating in the water there.”

    The power boat slowed and came to a stop. The crew retrieved the unconscious body of the scuba diver and hauled him aboard. Artificial respiration was performed on the body, the kiss of life, heart massage, and lastly a defibrillator was employed by a crewman in order to resuscitate him. By which there was a sharp in-take of breath, and sea water began to spill from his mouth, the man was turned on its side. A radio message was relayed to the Control Room reporting the recovery of Number 6 from the sea. Then the twin diesel engines of the power boat were powered up and powered her way across the sea back in the direction of The Village.

   At the slipway the body of Number 6 was transferred by stretcher from the power boat into the Red Cross trailer of an ambulance by two paramedics. Its siren blared out loudly through the Village as the ambulance sped on its way up the hill, passed the Town Hall, along the road and eventually out of The Village towards the hospital.

   “Well done Supervisor” said Number 2 offering his congratulations “how many times have you carried out that procedure?”

    The Supervisor looked rather sheepishly at Number 2 “That was the device’s first practical test. It’s designed to stop scuba divers and frogmen from getting in” he said waiting for the rebuke that he felt sure was to come.

    Instead Number 2 looked at the Supervisor and smiled “It seems equally efficient at stopping them from getting out. And at least now you know it works.”

237

    The Supervisor felt instant relief. As for Number 2 he was mindful of the consequences had they lost Number 6! He visualised the opening up of a hole in the ground…he who digs a pit will one day lie in it! The hole in the ground closed, and Number 2 made his way up the steel steps and onto the gantry, the pair of steel doors opening.

    The Supervisor picked up the yellow telephone “Have a taxi waiting outside the Town Hall to take Number 2 to the hospital.”

   The pair of steel doors closed behind the departing Number 2, leaving the Supervisor and his Observers to normal day operations.

    “Feeling better Number Six?” Number 2 enquired from the end of the hospital bed.

    Number 6 opened his eyes and tried to focus. There was a mist before his eyes. It slowly cleared, his eyes began to focus on the blurred figure looking down at him.

    “I congratulate you Six, no-one has ventured to try that before.”

    “I always do my best to be original.”

    “Where did you think you were going Six. How far did you think you could get?” Number 2 asked in quiet tone.

    “I don’t know. But any place is better than here” was Number 6’s reply.

    “Even that of a watery grave? I don’t think you are ready for Davy Jones’s locker just yet” Number 2 told him.

    “I gave you a good run for your money though, you have to admit that much.”

    “I don’t know why you bother Number Six. Look how we saved you from drowning. These exploits of yours, they really must cease you know.”

    “Drowning would have been a happy release.”

    “You don’t really mean that Six, drowning would have served us both nothing”

    “If I had” Number 6 replied “it would save us a great deal of time and trouble.”

    “Trouble, well I’m certainly in the soup. But then you are still a prisoner.”

    “And at least I know not to try that again” was his response “so I shall have to think of something else!”
    “Oh I see, you wish to put us to the test. Excellent Number Six, you’ll find us always up to the challenge” was Number 2’s response.

    “What happened down there?”

    “What happened where? Oh in the sea you mean. The Guardian saved your life.”

    “To serve and protect, is that it?”
    “To serve and protect the community, isn’t that what any Guardian does?” Number 2 replied.

    The door to the hospital room opened and two male orderlies entered the room, one was pushing a wheel chair.

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    “That’s all for today, visiting time is over. Number Six is due for his medical” said the orderly pushing the wheelchair.

    “I’ll be leaving you to it, Number Six” said Number 2 standing in the open doorway.

    The two orderlies then helped the patient out of bed and into the wheelchair, and wheeled out of the room and into the corridor.

    “You’ll never win” said Number 6 stubbornly as he was wheeled away along the corridor.

    Number 2 stood there watching the patient being wheeled away “Funny that, I don’t see how we can fail!” he called out, then turned and simply walked away.

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The Prisoner - An Exercise In Logistics Chapter 18

 

The Palace of Fun

    Number 6 was in the hospital for a regular check-up, there wasn’t much wrong with him, in fact life in The Village suited him, on the whole. After the medical the doctor sat at his desk writing a note
    “What you need Number Six is little more than some rest and relaxation. Don’t take life here too seriously.”
    “Can I go?”
    “Of course my dear fellow, I wouldn’t dream of detaining you another moment.”

    Early evening Number 6 was bored and lonely with his own company, so he decided to go out, go out and into the Cat & Mouse nightclub. Inside jazz music was playing, a hat check girl stood behind a counter taking customers hats and capes, each in return being given a numbered ticket. Cat and Mouse, is aptly named when considering the cat and mouse games between Number 2 and himself. Through an archway, a door to the night club led into a small foyer with a cloakroom desk, decorated with fishing nets, a wooden carved mermaid, a ship’s wheel hanging on the wall, and two matching table lamps sitting on tables, and upon the desk. There was also a wooden chair. A second ship’s wheel hanging from the ceiling as well as three brass light fittings. Also upon the table in a blue and white vase, fake flowers, and a white telephone. And a model of a clipper ship was to be seen in a glass case. Music issued from a number of black speakers upon the wall, and yet an automatic drum kit played, and a plaster lion rotated back and forth on a plinth. There was a regular looking bar with a three bottle optics, and a large number of bottles and glasses adorning the shelves behind the bar. Drinks were served by a bartender who looked more like a fishmonger in his straw boater and white coat instead of a steward! A waitress wearing a white sailor’s cap and colourful striped cape provided a table service. Large alcoves fitted with tables and chairs for the customers lined a circular wall, with fishing nets suspended from the ceiling, and large plants in planters scattered strategically about the room. The only things missing were young trendy radicals, or socialists sitting around smoking dope and discussing Marxism, and socialism. Or some goatee bearded type quoting poetry to an enthralled captive audience again, while smoking pot. However this is The Village and Number 6 should really have known better. Taking a table by the wall he sat down and began to take in these new surroundings, whilst listening to the jazz of Bix Beiderbecke, the first white jazz musician. The jazz music was piped through black wall speakers.

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    The young waitress walked over to Number 6’s table carrying a tray.
    “Non alcoholic gin, whisky, vodka looks the same, tastes the same.”

    “Whisky, a single malt if you have it” he said.

    The waitress turned and hurried to the bar to have her order filled by the barman. While he sat waiting for his drink, Number 6 sat looking about the night club and the patrons therein. The dance floor was vacant. Two people sat at the bar in deep conversation as the barman placed two drinks in front of them. Other customers sat at tables in the alcoves, while some flittered from table to table chatting with others here and there, but not one young radical or beatnik amongst them. There was one man, sat all alone at the end of the bar, Number 6 hadn’t noticed him before, looking slightly the worse for wear. Number 6 couldn’t imagine why! Then he saw the waitress heading in the direction of his table carrying his drink on a tray.

    “There sir, your whisky” said the waitress placing the glass of golden liquid on the table before him, then she stood waiting.

    Number 6 picked up the glass and knocked the drink back in one, it certainly tasted like whisky, it was smooth despite it not being a single malt.

    “Non alcoholic gin, whisky, vodka, looks the same tastes the same…” the waitress told him.

    “Yes I know all that, bet you can’t get me squiffy!” said Number 6 holding up his empty glass.

    The waitress looked shocked at this suggestion “No alcohol here sir, gin whisky, vodka looks the same tastes the same” which made her sound like an automaton!

    “Get me a drink a proper drink, one with alcohol in it” barked

Number 6, making the waitress jump half out of her skin.

    “I’ve told you, no alcohol here sir” repeated the waitress regaining her composure.

   “Then go away” he told her slamming his empty glass upon the table.

    But the waitress didn’t go away and Number 6 ended up ordering several drinks from her, most of them doubles and by the end of the evening he found himself quite intoxicated. He staggered about the club singing “If you like my body, and you think I’m sexy, come on now and let me know…..” he began to laugh and giggle inanely, falling over several times and making a complete fool of himself.

    Finally the barman had to help him outside into the cobbled square where Number 6 fell about laughing, this to the unemotional stare of the two Top Hat officials standing either side of the entrance arch of the ‘Cat & Mouse’ night club. Number 6 was lying on the cobbles when Number 234 emerged from ‘Cat & Mouse’ on her way home. She was going to walk passed him and leave him lying there in his own drunkenness. But then she thought better of it, curfew was only a few minutes off and Number 6 had been her best customer that night. So helping him to his feet Number 234 struggled to get him back to his cottage. In the lounge she helped him onto the couch, leaving him there to sleep it off.

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    The following morning Number 6 woke to a massive hangover, and the dulcet tones of someone whistling in the kitchen, surely not the maid that was not her style at all. Rising somewhat gingerly from the couch he went through to the kitchen to see who was in such a jovial mood first thing in the morning. It was Number 2 who uninvited had entered the cottage, whistling a merry tune,

    “Good morning my dear fellow, you certainly had one over the eight last night. A waitress from the ‘Cat and Mouse’ had to help you home by all accounts. Really Number Six, I had thought better of you”

    Number 2 had been replaced, the new interim Number 2 a man of medium height, with light-brown hair, wearing the usual attire, but with the air of a statesman about him, his voice calm and reassuring.

    “What’s it to you?” snapped Number 6 reaching for an empty glass, filling it with water from a bottle in the fridge.

    “Nothing, my dear fellow, just as long as you don’t make too much of a habit of it.”

    Number 6 sat down at the table with his glass of water which he

sipped slowly. He wished that the little man in his head would stop banging with his hammer, and that someone hadn’t replaced his tongue with a piece of flannel.

    Number 2 had made himself useful in the kitchen “Coffee, black with two sugars isn’t it and you really should eat something Six, you look rough.”

    “What do you care?” he said putting the glass to one side in exchange for the coffee.

    “Of course I care, I care about all our citizens.”

    “Then get the one who spiked my drinks last night!”

    “Now why should anyone want to spike your drink? Really Number Six I hadn’t put you down as being delusional. I do hope you are not turning paranoid on me.”

    Number 6 finished his coffee “My somewhat delicate condition this morning, cannot be put down to a night’s heavy, it’s impossible to get drunk in the Cat and Mouse.”
    “You seem to have managed it!”
    “As I say someone must have spiked my drink!”

    “Yes so you say, why should anyone want to do that?”
    “You tell me!”

    “Perhaps it was someone who wished to see you loosen up a bit and enjoy yourself for a change, which I assume you did. And no real harm befell you.”

    “You’re new here. What happened to your predecessor?”
    “He told me he was gone onto better things, and if I needed to know something all I had to do was press a button.”
   “Who told you that?”

209

    “He did, as we passed through the door, he was on the way out.”

   “Tell me what have I done to deserve your company this morning?”

    “Let me put my cards on the table.”

    “I wish you would.”
    “Don’t be like that.”

    “Just as long as we’re playing the game to the rules of Hoyle?” asked Number 6 sarcastically.

    “I’m not a gambler and you will find out that my patience is not inexhaustible. However after reading your file, and after recent events, I trust in time we will come to an understanding” Number 2 told him.
    “Really, you have that much time at your disposal?”
    “The doctor gave you a medical.”
    “What’s that got to do with the price of fish?”
    “He said all you need is a little rest and relaxation, but too much of that can be a bad thing, take an evening at the Cat and Mouse for example” Number 2 said reaching into a blazer pocket.

    “What’s that?” asked Number 6 with some suspicion.

    “There you go again. Just take it and be thankful that I can treat suspicion with an act of kindness and generosity” retorted Number 2 holding out the ticket.

    “What is it, my ticket out of here?” quipped Number 6 studying the card

The Palace of Fun

Admit one

                                                

   “I thought you might appreciate it, you look like a man who could do with being taken out of himself. Go and have yourself some harmless fun for a change” was Number 2’s offer as the door to ‘6 Private’ opened for him.

    “All computer games and virtual reality I expect.”

    “Not at all my dear fellow, not at all, just good old fashioned fun of the fair entertainment, and not one computer game to be found in The Palace of Fun” Number 2 told him as he crossed the threshold.

    The door closed, Number 6 placed the ticket against a gold carriage clock on the mantelpiece which chimed quarter past the hour. Unable as he was to rid himself of his hangover, he thought a few lengths of the swimming pool or Lido might do the trick, the stone cold water would clear his head. So after hunting out his swimming trunks and a towel he headed off through The Village and down the street in the direction of the Old People’s Home, then turning left the white doors of the changing rooms were just ahead of him on the left.

    After changing into his swimming trunks, Number 6 took a quick shower and headed off to the triangular stone walled swimming pool. On the lawn by the sea wall two girls in swimsuits were playing with a beach ball. They waved to him, and to his surprise he found himself waving back. The two girls stopped playing with the beach ball, and stood watching as Number 6 jumped into the almost ice cold water which instantly took his breath away and his body temperature dropped dramatically. He forced his arms and legs to work, completing the first length of the pool. Turning he swam back and completed another length of the Lido, and six or seven lengths followed as his body had become acclimatised to the cold which certainly cleared his head. Finally hoisting himself up out of the pool he stood on the narrow path by the pool vigorously drying himself off with the towel, before making his way back to the changing rooms.

210

    “Aren’t you swimming today?” he shouted out to the two girls.

    “No-one swims in there, it’s much too cold. We’ve never seen anyone swim in the pool before” one girl replied.

    “Perhaps that makes me the first!” he said smiling “I bet the Palace of Fun is much more your style.”

    “We’ve been there a few times” said one girl “the place is a scream.”     
    “The Ghost Train is my favourite, and the hall of mirrors” said the other.
    “The clowns are supposed to be funny, but I think they look so tragic, they frighten my friend” the girl replied smiling.
    He walked over to the lawn drying himself with the towel “Who’s your friend?”
    “Number Eight” the girl told him “And I’m Twenty-one.”
    “So, you can recommend the Palace of Fun?”

    “Of course, it’s the one place where you can forget yourself for a time, and this place with it!” she looked to her friends “we should go.”

    “Are you both prisoners here then?”

    The two young women stood up and dashed off towards the changing rooms.

    “Good lord no, we both work here” 21 said pausing and looking

back at him “and if we don’t hurry we’ll be late for work” the girl saluted.

    After his swim Number 6 felt both invigorated and hungry. His hangover, if that is what it was, had all but gone. He changed back into his clothes and went on his way back to his cottage. He cooked himself a ham and cheese omelette, then sat and ate it washed down with glass of fruit juice. He dumped the plate, knife and fork into the sink, then retrieved the ticket from the mantelpiece and slipped it into his pocket unsure precisely where the Palace of Fun was situated. He left the confines of his cottage and along a street he stopped a man who was pushing an old lady in a wheelchair who wore a red tinted visor over her face.

    “Excuse me, but could you direct me to the Palace of Fun?”

    “Is it the Palace of Fun you be wanting?” asked Number 10.

    “Yes that’s right” replied Number 6 thinking he had a right one here.

    “Well it’s not this way you know” said Number 10.

211

 

    “Isn’t it?” asked Number 6.

    “Oh no, you have to go down the road, turn left at the bottom and go passed the Café, turn right passed the taxi rank and Labour Exchange and through the yellow triumphal arch……”

    “Perhaps I should take a taxi?” Number 6 suggested.

    “Well you could, but it would be quicker to walk. Walk along the road until you come to a path on your left, then you want to follow that path until it meets with the main path which leads into the woods and mind you keep to the main path until you come to the hydrangeas and a gravelled path and that will lead you to the Palace of Fun.”

    Number 6 thanked the man who was already hurrying away pushing the wheelchair as he went. Down the road, left at the bottom passed the café, turn right passed the labour exchange and taxi rank, along the road and take the path on the left into the woods. But not risking anything to chance he paused and consulted the digital ‘Free Information’ map of Your Village, which strangely enough placed The Palace of Fun as being on the edge of the taxi rank and more or less behind him opposite the Labour exchange. He turned, there was no such building as was marked on the map!

     Crossing the road Number 6 approached a taxi driver sitting in her taxi on the rank “Excuse me.”

    “Yes” said the driver putting down her copy of The Tally Ho “Where would you like to go?”

    “The Map of Your Village indicates that The Palace of Fun should be standing over there, but clearly there is no such building” he said.
    “The Palace of Fun, well hop in and I’ll take you there” said the driver.

    “Do you know the way?”
    “I should do I have passed the Knowledge Test!”

    The taxi took a road out of The Village and along a country track for about two miles until they arrived at a small Hamlet, a sort of annex to The Village.

    “This is as far as I go” said the driver.

    “Where are we?” he asked.
    “That’s the Palace of Fun over there” the driver told him “and that will be two units for the taxi fare.”

    Number 6 paid the fare and alighted the taxi, where upon the young taxi driver bid him “Be seeing you” and backed the taxi round and set off back along the track way to the Village.

    It was a large grey Gothic building, with Gargoyles perched on the parapet, and windows stared like eyeless sockets. It hardly looked like a palace of fun, more like a haunted mansion seen in an old horror film! Several steps led up to a pair of large wooden doors studded with rivets and set in portico. A large man in a bowler hat and black and yellow chequered waistcoat stood smoking a large cigar, and he was laughing to himself. Number 6 mounted the steps and put a hand in his blazer pocket for the ticket, which he produced and handed to the showman who tore the ticket in half handing half back to Number 6.

112

    He entered The Palace of Fun through the open portico, leaving the bowler hatted showman still laughing and puffing on his cigar, and found himself in a large elaborately decorated foyer, but there was no one to tell him where to go or what to do. A staircase to his right wound its way up to the first floor and on to the upper floors beyond. To the left was a large painted mural depicting ‘The Ghost Train’ and all its horrors, a dark cowled spectre, skeletons dressed in rags, their jaws open as if in some inane laugh. A cloaked vampire, blood dripping from its bared fangs, and a werewolf with a girl’s throat in its jaws. Two corridors stretched out at angles into what seemed infinity, all done with mirrors no doubt. But where was the fun, the laughter, and just as though the Palace of Fun read his mind......laughter, loud laughter came from a ‘laughing sailor’ in a glass case attached high up on the wall.

    “Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.”

    He had not seen one of these since a childhood holiday at Southend-on-Sea. Indeed the laughter seemed somehow contagious as he began to laugh along with the sailor whose jaw worked up and down in dummyfied inane laughter. Descending the staircase, came a group of Village citizens, bright young things, some laughing, others eating candyfloss or popcorn and deciding what to do next.

    “The ghost train” shouted out a girl.

    “Ooh yes” agreed one of her friends “and then the dodgems.”

    “Yes and then onto the amusement arcade” shouted a young man from the back, as they all trouped through the door for a ride on the ghost train, screaming and howling as they went.

    Number 6 had by now recovered from his bout of laughter and was wondering which way he should go, in fact he suddenly felt a little stupid and turned to leave.

    “Not going so soon, why you have only just got here” said a voice behind him.

     He spun round to come face to face with a pair of bright red flannel trousers!

   “I’m up here” the voice said.

    Number 6 looked up to see a tall stilted man dressed in a black frock coat and top hat. He was a bit wobbly and had to keep shuffling about in order to maintain his balance.

     “Sorry about this, I have to shuffle about, otherwise I keep falling over” said the stilted man.

     Number 6 made several observations about this man on stilts. He had a red carnation in the left button hole of his coat, he wore theatrical make up, and stood a good ten feet tall, which was fine for the high vaulted ceiling of the foyer, but not for either of the corridors which we no more than 7 feet high.

    “I bet you’re thinking” said the stilted man “that being on your own you feel a bit like a spare part at a wedding.”

    “I wasn’t actually, what I was wondering……”

213

    “Well it doesn’t matter, as you can see we go to any lengths, and heights, for that matter, to raise a laugh here at the Palace of Fun. You want to loosen your stays a bit mate and get yourself some fun.”

    All Number 6 was getting at the moment was a kink in the back of his neck from looking up for so long “How tall are you?”

    “How tall do you want me to be?” returned the stilted man who gave the impression of getting even taller.

    “What do I do, where do I go to do it?” he asked the stilted man.

    “Didn’t the showman at the door tell you?”

    “No, he just tore my ticket in half, laughed and puffed on his cigar” said Number 6 producing his torn half of the ticket.

    “Typical, that’s all he does you see, in fact that’s all he ever does” said the stilted man.

    “So where do I go, what do I do?” asked Number 6 repeating his question.

    “Go wherever you like this way or that, upstairs or downstairs, it’s all the same in the Palace of Fun. All you have to do is choose, after all it depends on what you’re looking for doesn’t it? Choose a floor, select a door, open it and go in, couldn’t be simpler, all the fun of the fair you might say. Well thinking about it you would say” the stilted man explained.

    “And what is behind the doors?”

    “Well if we knew that it would spoil all the fun wouldn’t it, it all depends on which door you open, and what you are looking for. Some doors are marked, but that’s not to say that’s what lies beyond a particular door. You could just stick to the Ghost Train, the round-a-bout, dodgems or amusements, but those are for the unadventurous. YOU on the other hand look like a man who courts danger, a man who is not afraid to put himself in harms way” smiled the stilted man.

    “Am I putting myself in harms way being here?”

    “Of course not, what I meant was…. well you look like a man who can withstand a surprise or three. It’s all part of the fun, so go on and have fun. After all what possible harm could there be in the Palace of Fun?” laughed the stilted man as he half walked half wobbled along a corridor. But not just walk, but to get decidedly smaller the further along the corridor he walked until he could hardly be seen at all! It seemed that either the stilted man or the Palace of Fun was defying the laws of physics, in that the greater fitting into the lesser, and the shorter stretching off into infinity! But no, it is surely all done with mirrors, an illusion tricking him into believing the conclusion he was about to come to. It seemed that just about anything was possible in this place, the trick was not to question, but just to have fun. So it was that he chose one corridor against the other, for no other reason than it looked different  in some way, which was ridiculous as both corridors were identical.

214

    He wandered along the corridor passing the first and second doors, and just as he his hand reached for the handle of the third door the lights went out leaving him in total darkness. Turning in the direction which he believed he had just walked, Number 6 took two steps forward with hands stretched out in front of him, then he was bathed in blue florescent light just enough for him to see to make his way, but not enough to make things plain. A once solid floor, he was suddenly standing in a soft and squelchy slime. He walked on squelching under foot then walking into thick cobwebs stretching across the corridor, they clung to his face and hair. Then a whirring sound and two white discs appeared out of the blue light and slammed into his face, the one after the other......custard! And laughter filled the corridor “Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.”

    The blue florescent light went out, but for only a second or two, and was replaced by brilliant white light, there was no squelchy mess on the floor, no cobwebs save for those remaining in his hair, the custard was real enough, as he used his handkerchief to wipe his face. Further along the corridor he came to a door on his right, an oak door with a brass doorknob he grasped and turned it slowly, then pushing the door open he took two paces forward through the open into the darkened room beyond. The darkness was absolute and was unable to see his hand in front of his face, he took two paces backwards to leave the room to step back into the corridor. The door was no longer there, where the door was now was a solid wall! He was considering his position when the lights of the room came on and he reacted instinctively. He made an automatic dive for the light fitting, a long white plastic cord with an orange and white lampshade at the end to which Number 6 now clung for dear life and gazed down at a perfectly ordinary living room, complete with settee, two armchairs, and a patterned carpet. A television set, a mantelpiece over the fire place, coffee table with a vase of flowers, and there he was holding onto the ceiling light cable for dear life! When the fear of falling passed, he realised that he wasn’t on the ceiling at all. In truth he appeared to be lying on the ceiling looking down. The reality of the situation was he was lying on the floor looking up! Gingerly he slowly released his fingers from around the electric light cable and stood up. It was a strange sensation to be standing on the ceiling, looking up at the floor and the furniture suspended over his head. An upside down room, nothing more sinister than that, “Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha” laughed Number 6 recovering from the initial shock, the grimaced look on his face subsiding. And there was the door of the upside down room he exited into the corridor, or so he thought. Instead he was immediately greeted by a round of applause from an audience in the auditorium.

215

 

    “Thank you sir, if you would join me and my beautiful assistant Belinda on the stage” offered a man in a black suit, cape and top hat.

    Belinda, an attractive young woman wearing an ostrich feathered headdress, and a provocative costume made to draw the eye. Number 6 walked up the steps and onto the stage much to the enthusiastic applause of the audience. The Magician raised his hand bringing instant silence to the auditorium.      
    “Belinda, the cabinet if you please. Ladies and gentlemen we have with us a gallant volunteer who with the help of my beautiful and capable assistant, I shall make disappear” announced the magician to the transfixed audience.

    Belinda pushed a highly decorated cabinet forward on its four caster wheels which in turn raised it slightly off the floor of the stage, indicating that no trapdoor could be made use of by the participant within the cabinet.

    “Now sir if you would make an examination of the outside of the cabinet” the Magician asked his volunteer.

    He did as he was asked.
    “You will agree that the walls of the cabinet are sound, and that there is no possible way out” the magician asked.
    “Agreed.”
    “You have found no trapdoor, no secret panelling?”

   “None” reported Number 6.

   “Then sir if you would be so kind as to help further by stepping inside the cabinet.”

    Number 6 then took two startled paces back from the ornate cabinet.

    “My dear sir I assure you that it is perfectly safe, I am not doctor Caligari!”

    The audience laughed at the Magician’s remark.

    “Please be so kind and step inside the cabinet, the audience is waiting.”

    Reluctantly Number 6 gave in and stepped up inside the cabinet and Belinda closed the door and secured two stout bolts.

    A drum roll.

    “Ladies and gentlemen, I shall now make the young man inside the cabinet disappear” announced the magician “alacazar, alacazee, alacazar” he said waving his arms mystically in the air.

    A huge puff of smoke enveloped the cabinet. Belinda, and the Magician drew back the two bolts and the door of the cabinet was flung open to reveal a vacant interior. The audience were amazed, astonished, and astounded, the applause resounded around the auditorium, the Magician and the beautiful Belinda soaked up the applause and bowed. Number 6 on the other hand had found himself being ejected out of the back of the cabinet and somehow back into a corridor.

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    He looked both ways along the corridor, but which way? He turned right and walked ahead until he reached the amusement arcade. Inside citizens all stood in front of a variety of different fruit machines all feeding coin after coin into the slots, pulling handles or pressing the start button and watching with either excitement or anxiety as the three reels rolled round hoping that this one would be the jackpot payout… Lemon Lemon Cherry! There would be the occasional jackpot pay out on 7 7 7, or three melons, or three bells, the coins eagerly gathered up, the player then moving on to feed the coins or tokens into another fruit machine in the hope of another jackpot. Number 6 had stood watching from the door way, and was about to walk away when suddenly he was approached by a small man in a grey smock, a black peaked cap perched on his head.

   “You a gambling man mister?” asked the arcade attendant.

   “Not when the odds are stacked against” he said.

    “No rigged machines here mister, need some change do you?” asked the attendant.

    “I suppose so” Number 6 said.

    “Got your mobile phone with you?” asked the attendant ferreting about in his bag for his swipe machine.

    “I don’t have one with me” he told the attendant.
    “Well give me your credit card then.”

    Number 6 took out his Admix card from the breast pocket of his blazer and wiping the yellow custard on his sleeve handed it to the attendant.

   “How much sir?” the attendant asked.

   “Beg pardon?”

   “How much do you wish to gamble?” asked the attendant about to swipe the card.

   “Twenty, no thirty Work Units” Number 6 replied.

   “Not much of a gambler are you sir” remarked the attendant now swiping the card and counting out thirty Credit Unit tokens from his leather bag.

    “Perhaps I’m confident of beating the odds!”
    “Best of luck” said the attendant turning to another customer looking for change.

    Number 6 looked at the handful of change. They were round Credit or Work Units each with a Penny Farthing embossed on both sides, tokens if you prefer, tokens which work like casino chips which can be cashed in, if you have any left that is. There were three lines of fruit machines, many of which were already being played, however there was a vacant ‘Lucky 7’ fruit machine and Number 6 dropped a token into the slot and pulled on the handle. The three reels spun and spun round, the first stopped in sequence…Melon… melon….Bell. A second token was dropped into the slot and again he pulled down on the handle sending the three reels spinning round and round until finally stopping Cherry…. Pear…Lemon, and this was much the same result at each pull of the handle. He shook his remaining coins in his hand and wandered off, behind him an elderly woman inserted her first token into the one armed bandit and pulled on the handle. Round and round the three reels spun then BAR… BAR…. BAR, the fruit machine lit up and a siren sounded as it coughed up 2,000 credit units. Number 6 spun round to see the elderly woman on her hands and knees picking up the spilt tokens off the floor. The attendant came walking along carrying a cardboard sign, he switched off the fruit machine, and hung the cardboard sign on it.

Out

of

Order

    The attendant looked at Number 6 “That’s its fourth jackpot payout today!” and walked away.

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    Number 6 approached another machine, one of several glass cabinets, each containing a mechanical crane, a jib with a triple prong grab. Scattered about the interior of the glass cabinet were a variety of small prizes to be grabbed by the crane operated by two small wheels on the exterior of the cabinet. Number 6 dropped a token into the slot, there came a whirring sound as the crane began to tilt forward. Grasping the tiny wheel he turned it first to the right and then left having seen a watch he wanted to win. So positioning the crane in exactly the right place, the grab lowered which took hold of the watch and began to lift it clear of the other prizes. But just as the wrist watch was winched to the top of the jib, seconds from being dropped down a shoot and won, the crane opened its grab and the watch dropped back amongst the other prizes… lost! Now with only one credit token left and nothing to show for it, he walked up and down the aisles watching people eagerly feeding the fruit machines in the hope of winning that elusive jackpot. Then he saw “Madame Za Za” a fortune teller in a glass case, a dummy dressed in a head scarf with gold coins dangling from it, and a gold earring. There was a smile, but a cold empty look in her blue eyes. Mystical drapes hung about the interior of the cabinet, and slender hands poised over a crystal ball. On the front of the machine were three dials used to enter your date of birth. Number 6 turned each dial in turn then inserted his last Credit Unit into the slot. There came a whirring sound and Madame Za Za became quite animated. Her cold empty eyes suddenly lit up, her hands waved themselves over the crystal ball until finally a small card was ejected from within the machine through a narrow slit and lay at the bottom of a small tray. He took the card and read the printed words “You will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed or numbered. Your life is your own.” Smiling quietly to himself he placed the card in a pocket of his blazer and departed the amusement arcade.
     Back in the corridor he got caught up in the helter skelter, a girl he recognised held up a large Panda.

    “Look what I won at the shooting gallery”
    And then she was gone swept away in the helter skelter. Number 6 opened a door, to his shock there just on the other side of the door stood a grizzly bear, a full seven or eight feet tall, with saliva and blood dripping from its open jaws and huge teeth and fangs. It’s claws ready to tear and dismember its next prey. And yet the grizzly bear was frozen in a pose of grizzly horror. As he was about to close the door he allowed himself a broad grin, finally laughing at his own stupidity in allowing himself to be frightened in such a way, and by the most obvious of stuffed bears. And at that the huge grizzly bear moved. It dropped on its haunches, and turned back into the room before turning once again, powering its way towards him, its jaws open, baring its long fangs as it growled and snarled. He reacted in the only way possible, slamming the door shut on the rampaging grizzly, and running for his life along the corridor. As for the grizzly bear, it was housed safely behind toughened reinforced glass, but Number 6 wasn’t to have known that!  

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    One would have thought he had received enough shocks and surprises for the day, but being unable to find an exit from the building, he was forced to continue his tour of the Palace of Fun. The horribly scary ghost train was next, with its false cobwebs, rattling skeletons and hideous ghouls, accompanied by screams, whoops and the baying and howling of werewolves. All this along with the flutter of passing bats, the attendant of which was himself gaunt and frightening, his raven hair combed back as he stood in a coffin shaped kiosk.

    “Room for one more inside” offered the gaunt attendant as the last car of the ride stood vacant and waiting.
   Number 6 refused the offer, instead the Hall of Mirrors grabbed his attention, a sign on the entrance read;

                    “Sometimes he was squat,

                           Sometimes he was tall,

                           Sometimes he was hardly there at all.”

    He walked along a line of mirrors each one in turn reflecting his distorted shape back at him, he was tall, stout, squat, with a large body and small head, then a small body and an oversized head, and in the next his reflection looked like an egg timer and then like a vampire casting no reflection at all!.

    To exit the Hall of Mirror’s Number 6 had to traverse through a glass maze. He could see every which way to go but not the sheet of glass which he so confidently walked into! It was not easy at all. He  could see the exit but not the way to reach it, and having walked into one sheet of glass, he was not in a hurry to do so again. Slowly he felt his way along the glass panelled walls of the maze, turning this way and that and back on himself having reached a dead end. And then

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he saw it, he saw THEM, white boned skeletons some with the remnants of rags hanging from the bones, and whisps of hair still attached to the skull. They were all slumped on the floor, those poor individuals who never made it out of the glass maze. But Silas Blake was made of sterner stuff! And yet every turn taken took him further and further away from the exit to the maze. He paused and considered the situation, what is the golden rule to any maze, or indeed labyrinth.....turn left at every opportunity. And then through the glass he saw a small boy licking an ice lolly, a boy he recognised as being himself. The boy winked, turned and seemed to make his way through the maze with no difficulty, so he followed him out of the maze and into the corridor to be greeted like an old friend by a man and a woman. The woman shook him warmly by the hand and instantly there was an electric shock via a clockwork buzzer hidden in the palm of her hand. The man embraced him and water spouted from the flower he wore in his button hole. They chuckled and laughed, Number 6 felt annoyed and was about to wipe his face with his handkerchief but was covered in custard! He laughed, well if you can’t laugh in the Palace of Fun what can you do?

    The stilted man put in another appearance, walking tall along the corridor towards Number 6 who was just about to open another door out of pure curiosity.

    “No time for that my dear fellow, its only ten minutes before The Palace of Fun closes for the night” the stilted man told him.

    “So soon?”

    “Time flies when you’re having fun. Besides all good things must come to an end sooner or later” said the stilted man “been enjoying ourselves have we?”

    “Enjoying myself? I wouldn’t quite put it like that, but it’s been an experience I’ll say that much” Number 6 replied.

    The stilted man looked at his pocket watch “Well, maybe it’s not quite too late. Perhaps there is just time for one more piece of fun, through the…. black and blue door I think. You’ll find it at the far end of the passage way, be careful as to what steps you take. Remember your predecessor in whose footsteps you now follow” the stilted man said somewhat enigmatically.

    “You’re tall” said Number 6 “too tall in fact!”

    “Don’t forget, it’s less than ten minutes before closing time” the stilted man reminded him as he strode off down the passage way getting smaller all the time.

    Number 6 walked on until he came to the black and blue door at the far end of the corridor. He paused, then grasped a firm hold of the brass door knob, he paused a moment more before slowly turning the doorknob and pushing the door open. Stepping over the threshold, slammed the door shut behind, perhaps not the wisest of things to do, shutting off his exit like that. At first glance the room looked to be completely empty. On second glance there was, at the other side of the room a white robed figure sitting in a high chair, its head inclined as though in a state of reverence. Taking two paces forward he almost fell through a hole, as part of the floor gave way beneath his feet. He staggered back trying to find the door through which only a few moments ago he had entered the room. But he couldn’t find the doorknob, as there was no door knob to find. More than that there was no door! He turned, keeping his back to the wall, and in front of him, etched on the floor the jumbled up letters of the alphabet. What was it the stilted man had said, “Remember the predecessor in whose footsteps you follow.” He stood there for what seemed like an age, then as though a light bulb had been switched on, sudden illumination! “In whose footsteps you now follow.”

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   Stepping forward Number Six prepared to follow in his predecessor’s footsteps, first the letter N….followed by U….M….B….E….R…S.…I.…X finally reaching the far side of the room. All this time the white robed figure had sat unmoved, his head still bowed as Number 6 slowly and cautiously approached. Suddenly the white figure raised its head. Now he could see that under the cowl this spectre was wearing a half white, half black face mask. He reached out and tore off this spectre’s mask only to reveal the mask of an ape! With a look of determination he reached out again and tore away the ape mask revealing the white skull beneath. As he stared into the pair of eyeless sockets the jaw bone dropped and the skull began to laugh insanely, and from within the mouth of the skull a jet of nerve gas was propelled into the face of Number 6. The room began to spin, his feet slipped from under him, and he fell back in an unconscious heap on the floor.

    When he eventually regained consciousness he found himself restrained in a black leather chair, the chair being in a perfectly ordinary room, with a desk and leather armchairs. Paintings hung on the walls, white plaster busts were mounted on white plinths. Ceiling high book cases, lamps on tables, a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a large fire place, a chessboard set up on a small table and a drinks cabinet in the corner. Leather straps restrained Number 6 in the chair, but oddly enough his arms had been allowed to hang free. Quickly he unbuckled first one strap and then the other, both releasing himself and instantly causing himself to fall out of his chair onto the ceiling! He lay there on the ceiling for several minutes whilst gathering his bearings. Slowly he picked himself up, and dusted himself down. His right leg pained him, injuring it as he had in the fall. Limping to the door he grasped the door knob and opened it. People who had clearly been enjoying themselves, laughing and joking were now heading along the corridor towards the foyer in time to depart The Palace of Fun before it closed for the night. The stilted man was at the door of the foyer watching the people leaving and picked Number 6 out from the crowd.
     “You’ve all clearly had the time of your life, had fun, with laugh

 aplenty along the way. Perhaps we shall be seeing you again?”

    “I doubt it somehow” he said rubbing his hurt leg “that last one wasn’t much to laugh about, it’s left me black and blue and I might have broken my leg!”

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    “Even humour too has its dark side” the stilted man said.

    Number 6 passed out through the door taking his leave of The Palace of Fun. Outside under the portico stood the stout, bowler hatted figure of the showman who stood there puffing on his cigar and still laughing to himself.

    Number 6 glared at the showman “What have you got to laugh about?”

    The stout showman made no response except to puff on his cigar, the ash of which dropped onto his yellow and black chequered waistcoat. Number 6 turned his back on both the showman, and his gothic Palace of Fun and made his way back to The Village, and the relative comfort of his cottage.

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