The Prisoner - An Exercise In Logistics Chapter/Episode 23

 

Top Hats And Undertakers

    The early morning sky was dark and overcast. Low lying cloud covered the mountains, and the wind whipped up the waves sending white horses crashing against the sea wall and stone hull of the boat, and rain lashed down upon the roofs of the candy coloured cottages. The storm was keeping The Village inordinately quiet, the good citizens choosing the comfort of their cottages to the wind blown sodden Village outside. Everyone, that is, except for Number 6, who at this precise moment stood in the wind and rain atop of the cliffs wearing a blue and white anorak. The wind in his hair, the rain on his cheek were bracing, and fair blew the cobwebs away. He was about to turn back along the path into the woods, when he heard, he thought he heard, the sound of aircraft engines. Shading his eyes against the rain, he gazed up into the sky, but the dark storm clouds were too low for him to see anything. But yet, there it was, just audible against the wind, and no mistake a twin engine aircraft. But what was the use, if he could not see it through the clouds? They surely would be unable to see him down on the ground.
    Those on board the twin engine sea plane were in trouble, one engine was feathering, and the aircraft was rapidly losing height as the pilot fought with the controls trying to keep the aircraft in the air.

    In the Control Room the night time Supervisor and her Observers were coming to the end of their shift.

    “Supervisor” called out the radar operator “contact bearing green one four zero, range three miles.

    The Supervisor-Number 212 walked over to the radar screen “Where?”

    “There” said the operator pointing to the orange display screen “now blue one two zero, range two miles, height one thousand feet and falling.”

    “Have we received a distress call?” the Supervisor asked turning to the communication’s operator.

    “Nothing ma’am, could be that they have radio failure” was the

communications operator’s suggestion “but will keep listening.”

    “Eight hundred feet and falling, red ninety, range one and a half miles” the radar operator reported suddenly “she’s coming down and close to The Village ma’am.”

    “Maintain tracking, I want to know the precise area the plane comes down. Observers keep a sharp look out” ordered the Supervisor picking up a yellow ‘L’ shaped telephone “all posts yellow alert, yellow alert. Get me Number Two.”

    Number 2 was not in the best of moods at being risen from his bed at such an early hour. He was still wearing his pyjamas and dressing gown when he was lifted up into his office in the black global chair. The ‘L’ shaped telephone was bleeping.

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    “Number Two here, what up?”
    “An aircraft, but it won’t be up for much longer, it’s losing height” the Supervisor reported.
    “What’s that to do with us?”
    “The aircraft was on a direct course to The Village.”
    This made Number 2 sit up and take notice “Really?”
    This latest interim Number 2, a young man, blonde hair, tallish, who had not been in office for long, was about to face his first problem.
    “Radar is tracking the plane, it’s less than a mile away, height five hundred feet” the Supervisor reported.

    “Supervisor, contact has now dropped off my screen!” announced the radar operator.

    “We’ve lost contact sir, the aircraft has dropped off our radar.” the Supervisor reported.

    “You mean it’s crashed, well find it!” Number 2 said into the telephone “there could be survivors.”

    “Yes number Two, but the inclement weather might hamper the search” the Supervisor said before putting the telephone down and giving the order “Observers scan all areas around The Village, sea, estuary and woodland. That aircraft came down somewhere close. Number Two wants it found. Did no-one actually see the plane come down?”

    The five Observers sat looking at their screens in total silence.

    “An aircraft comes down and not one of my Observers sees it!”

    At that moment one of the two Observers sitting on either ends of the see-saw device as they rode round and round up and down turned away from his screen.
    “Supervisor, it looks like the aircraft came down in the woods south of The Village.”

    ‘Very well, scan all the woods, find crash site it shouldn’t be difficult” ordered the Supervisor as though her very future depended upon it.

     The pilot of the twin engine seaplane feathered its starboard engine and the oil pressure in the port engine was dropping rapidly as it coughed and spluttered as though it would die at any moment. The radio was kaput, so an S.O.S was out of the question. Visibility was not good due to low cloud and heavy rain. The pilot pushed on the joystick putting the sea plane into a gentle dive just enough to get below the clouds to see how the land lay below. That was when the wind screen wipers gave up the ghost, leaving the pilot seeing little of the choppy sea below through the rain that lashed against the window. In the back of the plane his one single passenger had strapped himself in, clutching a black leather document case handcuffed to his left wrist. He was a tall gaunt looking man dressed in black suit, black over coat and top black hat. The pilot had thought he could be an undertaker going to a funeral, but nothing could have been further from the truth. The passenger was well passed the simple frightened, nervous state, and was now reaching the terrified panic stricken state of mind which comes when one knows that death is not too far off.

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    The aircraft had lost height dramatically, now no higher than five hundred feet and losing height rapidly.

    “Have you sent a distress call?” asked his passenger.

    “The radio’s u-s” said the pilot fighting to control his aircraft but losing.

    “Where exactly are we?” the passenger asked with a look of terror.

    “Damned if I know, GPS is down. We were on course, not so sure now ” shouted the pilot in his struggle with the plane, trying to keep its nose up and the port engine alive.

    The sea’s high waves rose up suddenly to meet the seaplane and the pilot pulled back sharply on the joy stick bringing the plane’s nose up, up towards the rising cliffs ahead as he tried to get the most out of the port engine, which seemed reluctant to give of its best.

    “Are we going to crash?” shrieked the passenger.

    “There’s every chance of that” said the pilot pulling hard on the controls and making the port engine whine as it had to work harder.

    “This is a sea plane, we could land on the sea” the passenger suggested.

    “Believe it or not I had thought of that, but the sea is too rough. If

we hit the waves at the wrong angle the plane would be flipped over

then we wouldn’t stand a chance” the pilot shouted against the high pitched whine of the port engine.
    He fought the controls in desperation to avoid the cliffs. The nose of the seaplane lifted and gained a little height, missing the cliffs but clipped the top of the trees. It dropped, hitting the trees, the floats were wrenched from their mountings. The port engine gave a final cough and spluttered then died. The seaplane dived into the trees tearing the wings from the fuselage, and as it hit the ground the tail broke off, while the smashed nose and cabin section ploughed through the undergrowth before coming to a stop in the dense woodland of The Village. The pilot sat in his seat slumped forward over the controls, blood trickled from an open head wound. The passenger had been thrown out of his seat which had been torn from its mountings, and thrown about the cabin violently during the crash, his top hat crumpled now lay half out of the door on his side unconscious, the black leather document case still handcuffed to his left wrist, and a growing blood stain on his coat.

     From his vantage point, Number 6 had witnessed the crash and was at this very moment forcing his way through the undergrowth of the woods towards the crash site. He was only too aware the crash would not have gone unobserved, and that a search team would be on it’s away. His aim was to get there first. Emerging into the swathe cut in the trees by the plane as it came crashing down. Wreckage was strewn everywhere and there was a sprinkling of small fires. Only the cockpit and forward part of the fuselage remained somewhat intact, it was here that he found the unconscious body of the passenger. Number 6 saw the leather document case handcuffed to the Top Hat officials left wrist. He was just going through the pockets of the black overcoat when a bloody hand grabbed hold of him.

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    “I’m a courier. Tell Number Two that I did my duty” coughed courier pulling himself up so that he could speak better “a duty which I now pass onto you. In my inside coat pocket……cough….  a small wallet, inside a key.”

    Number 6 unbuttoned the black overcoat and felt in the inside pocket, producing the small leather wallet, in which was the very key in question.

    “Give the document case to Number Two, you must pass the contents on without fail they are by way of a top secret and confidential nature. Have Number Two tell Number One that Silas Blake……. ugh” the man released his grip on Number 6’s anorak and fell back having breathed his last.

    He used the key to unlock the handcuffs, and took the document case, together with the dead man’s black over coat, dark glasses, and crumpled black top hat and shoes. The dark glasses he put in his anorak pocket, and removed the dead man’s shoes. He quickly checked the remainder of the wreckage, and found the pilot still strapped in his seat, he was dead. With little else to be discovered, Number 6 made off into the woods with his loot. It was not until he came to a rocky tor in the woods that he stopped and crouched in a small rocky alcove worn away in the rock where he was out of sight of the prying eyes of the Observers. Studying the document case he saw it had a combination lock. Setting the three tumblers of the lock he set to zero he turned each one in turn 001 002 003 004 005 006 007 008 009 011 012 013 014 and so on in this way he was surely to discover the combination that would release the lock. 103 104 105 106 107.......... 214 215 216 217, turning the tumblers in sequence 662 663 664 665, then finally at 667 at which the lock snapped open. He unzipped the document case and looked at the contents, and then a cunning plan began to ferment in his mind. He could not allow these documents obtained by a Top Hat courier fall into the hands of Number 2! Obviously he was bringing them to Number 2! It occurred to him that there was only one person who could have obtained these documents, the person of his other self! His clone, his very own flesh and blood, somewhere free in the world, and possibly using his name, living his life. Why had he allowed these to fall into the hands of the enemy? It seems they had finally managed catch up with his clone. The price of his continued freedom, and the condemnation of his twin, being that which he now held in his hands! It seemed to the Prisoner-Number 6, that he was now beyond all hope and deliverance! Stuffing both The Village file and photographs into the document case, he picked it up along with the overcoat, Top Hat and shoes and made his way back to The Village, and his cottage.

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    In the Control Room a shift change had occurred and now the Supervisor-Number 28 had put The Village on complete yellow alert. While at the crash medics attended the pilot of the aircraft and its passenger, but it was far too late to do anything for them. Security guards searched both the scattered wreckage and surrounding area, but nothing was found save for a number of footprints leading to and away from the wreckage. The head of the security team contacted the Control Room and made his report.

    “Tell me about this passenger” said the Supervisor.

    “He’s tall, gaunt, wearing a black suit. A curious thing, he has a pair of handcuffs attached to his left wrist. Whatever had been handcuffed to him has been removed” reported Number 48.

    “Is it possible the passenger could be a Top Hat official, is there a black overcoat and top hat in the wreckage?” the Supervisor asked.

   Number 48 looked about the wreckage “No, there’s no overcoat or top hat, but a curious thing.......”

    “Yes, what’s that?”
    “His shoes have been removed.”
    “You couldn’t be mistaken about the footprints, they don’t belong to the medics or your men?” asked the Supervisor.
    “No sir, someone has been here before us.”
    “Someone survived the crash perhaps?”
    “No-one could have survived this sir.”
    “The footprints, where do they lead to?”
    “Into the woods.”
    “Is there a black document case in the wreckage, or identification on the body?”
    “No sir.”
    “Very well, carry on with your search, I will alert Number Two.”

    “You’ve found the crashed plane, good” Number 2 said in good humour, however that was about to change.

    “Both the pilot and passenger are dead, their bodies will be taken to the mortuary” the Supervisor informed him.

    “Dead you say. That might be unfortunate or a blessing. Tell me about the passenger” asked Number 2.

    The Supervisor thought for a moment, but there was no other way to say it “There is a reasonable possibility that the passenger was a Top Hat courier.”

    “A what?’ barked Number 2 into his telephone.

    “A Top Hat courier” repeated the Supervisor.

    “Yes that’s what I thought you said. How can you be so sure?”

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    “The man’s tall, gaunt, wearing a black suit although we did not find a black top hat, overcoat, or any identification on the body, or in fact his shoes!”

    “His shoes, what about his shoes.”

    “They have been removed, also he’s wearing a pair of handcuffs on his left wrist. So we can assume he was carrying either a document case or attaché cases.”
    “So if we assume he was a Top Hat courier he was bringing something to The Village. But we were not expecting any such arrival...were we?”
    “No Number Two, and there are the footprints!”
    “Footprints?” Number 2 asked.
    “Leading to and away from the wreckage.”
    “From the medics and security guards I shouldn’t wonder.”
    “I am advised not sir.”
    “Then who?”
    “So an unscheduled arrival, a Top hat courier dead, and whatever he was bringing to The Village missing....or taken.....”
    “By person or persons unknown” added the Supervisor.
    “Have those footprints traced, and have a plaster cast made of them so we can trace the footwear.”
    “Yes Number Two, but the footprints are of a flat canvas shoe, all citizens wear such footwear.”
    “We are looking for an opportunist” Number 2 said “and who do we know who fits that description? What’s more only a fool would have been out in that weather.......where was Number Six at the time?”

    Number 6 had confined himself to his cottage since his early morning activity, keeping himself to himself in a low profile! The housemaid had arrived, she brought him his clean laundry, as well as his dry cleaning, his other grey blazer with burgundy piping which he hung in the wardrobe. On the CD player a little Noel Coward was singing about the last time he saw Paris, when suddenly the door to his cottage opened, and in strolled the lean frame of Number 2, the old school scarf wrapped about his neck, carrying a furled umbrella shooting stick. He was followed by his assistant Number 8, a young man in a light blue piped blazer. They were accompanied by two large set men, guardians, wearing striped sweaters who at the click of Number 2’s fingers began to make a systematic search of ‘6 Private’.

    “I trust you have a search warrant!” Number 6 said flippantly.
    “Do I need one?” asked Number 2 watching his men at their work.

    “Obviously not!” Number 6 replied watching his place being turned over.
    “What were you doing out in all that wind and rain this morning?” 2 asked.
    “Was I?”
    “Don’t get coy with me Number Six, your clothes are still damp, as are your canvas shoes, do you mind?”

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    “Do I mind what?”
    “Taking off your shoes.”
    “Whatever for?”
    “Whatever for...for close examination that’s what for!” offered Number 8.
    “What’s he got there?” 6 asked.
    “A wooden box, it contains two plaster casts” 2 replied.
    “What of?”
    “You’ll see, your shoes if you would be so kind...before we take them!”

    Number 6 sat down and removed his canvas shoes, Number 8 placed the box on the floor. The guardians had completed their thorough search of the cottage and found precisely nothing!
    “Why did you go out this morning Number Six?”
    “I wanted a breath of fresh air since you ask, it was quite invigorating.”
    “You could have caught a cold, or worse” 2 suggested.
    “I didn’t know you cared!”
    “I don’t.”
    Number 8 was busy comparing Number 6’s canvas shoes to the plaster casts in the box, they were an exact match.
    “They match” Number 8 said.
    “Anything to say Number Six?”
    “All the canvas shoes worn by people here are identical; those casts could be of anyone’s shoes.”
    “Not everyone’s” Number 8 said “if you look closely you see that the wear on the soles of your canvas shoes is identical to that of the casts!”
    “The wear of the soles of your shoes Number Six, are as identical as fingerprints, wouldn’t you say” Number 2 remarked “they place you at the crash site of the aircraft. Now what have you to say for yourself?”
    “I heard it, couldn’t miss it”

    “Did you report it?”

    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because your Observers don’t miss a trick, and it was nothing to do with me” Number 6 responded.
    “That’s never stopped you before!”

    “You’re too unkind!”

    “So you didn’t go to the crash site?”

    “Why should I have done that?”

    “To assist any possible survivors” Number 2 suggested casually.

    “Were there any?” Number 6 asked knowing full well the answer.

    “As it happens no, yet items had been taken from the wreckage, and I thought that perhaps a deal could be made for the missing items” Number 2 suggested with an air of confidence, knowing full well that he had found his man.

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    “You know what was taken?”
    “Curiously a pair of shoes, amongst other items” Number 2 replied.

    “Other items?” asked Number 6 feigning all innocence.

    Number 2 decided to play it cagey “You are a very important first-hand witness, perhaps you would be good enough to tell me what you saw?”

    “It was a seaplane, and in some trouble.”

    ‘That much we do know” Number 2 informed him.

    “The plane was in a dive. It looked as though the pilot was avoiding trying to land on the water. It was very rough out there, a high tide. The aircraft managed to get over the top of the cliffs, but hit the top of the trees, tearing off the floats. The port engine was coughing and spluttering, the starboard engine feathered, a crash in the woods was inevitable” Number 6 reported.

    “Tell me again why you were on the cliffs at that time of the morning?” Number 2 asked.

    “I like to watch the cormorants fly in to roost for the day” Number 6 replied with a smile.

    “In that weather, I had no idea you were such a keen bird watcher, or a bird watcher of any kind!” remarked Number 2 not hiding the sarcasm in his voice.

    “Why was the sea plane coming here?” asked Number 6 casually.

    “What makes you think it was coming to The Village? An aircraft in distress, it could have been blown off course” Number 2 suggested

    “It would be a first. Never had a seaplane arrive here before, what’s wrong with the helicopter?” asked Number 6 teasingly.
    “It couldn’t fly in such weather!” came the reply.
    “Tell me how many people do you have on your lists of suspects?”
    Number 8 took a small notebook from his pocket, opened it and read out loud “Number Six” then closing the notebook placed it back in his pocket.
    “Have you ever considered that you might have the wrong man?” Number 6 asked putting on his shoes.
    “I don’t have the wrong man, I have the right man, and you know it!” Number 2 told him.
    “On the circumstantial evidence of a pair of canvas shoes, you’ve found nothing else!” 6 said looking about the chaos caused in the search.
    “We’ll be seeing you Number Six” Number 8 warned.
    The door of the cottage opened.

    “Well I always enjoy your visits. Feel free to call by any time. Be seeing you” Number 6 saluted casually.

    The door swung open for the departing and Numbers 2 and 8 took their leave.

    Later that day a tall man dressed in a black overcoat, dark glasses, and what appeared to be a slightly battered Top Hat, was sitting at a table on the lawn of the Old People’s Home. A waiter approached his table asking the Top Hat official if he wanted anything. The man ordered tea. So far no-one on the lawn had recognised Number 6, or rather 86, as the badge pinned to the left lapel of his overcoat denoted. He had amended his own badge slightly using a little red paint. True the Admiral sat at another table had given him a queer look, but had failed to penetrate his disguise. And so he took afternoon tea. But why the disguise, because he was due to gain entry to the Town Hall, made possible due to the two small white discs found in a pocket of the overcoat. He was aware of their use as security pass discs. If escape is out of the question, then possibly infiltration into the inner workings of The Village might bring forth the possibility of sabotage or the chance simply to throw a spanner in the works. But primarily he had something to hide, and where better to hide it, where no-one would think of looking, but in the Town Hall!

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    Number 86, finished his tea, rose from the table and walked away from the Old People’s Home, up the hill towards the Town Hall. Ahead of him two Top Hat administrative officials carrying black leather document cases under their arms entered the Town Hall through the large portico entrance. Number 86 carried on walking up the street towards the imposing building. Pausing he wondered about the electrical force field when a voice said behind him.
   “Aren’t you going in?”
    “Two Top Hat officials stood behind him.
    “Yes, yes of course” 86 told then and stepping forward entered the Town hall.

    “Did you see that Supervisor?” an Observer asked.
    “See, see what?” asked the Supervisor.

    “A Top hat official seemed to linger for a moment outside the Town Hall before going in” the Observer reported.
    “What about it?”
    “Well he’s wearing a battered Top Hat!”
    This grabbed the Supervisor’s attention “He’s what?”
    “Wearing a battered Top Hat, all crumpled like.”
    “Playback the last few moments” the Supervisor ordered.
    On the wall screen the scene of a few moments ago was played back.

    “Zoom in on that chap” ordered the Supervisor.

    The camera zoomed on the man in the battered Top Hat, then zoomed in on the Penny Farthing badge.

    “It’s Number eighty-Six” said the Supervisor tapping the number into his computer slate “but there’s something not quite right about the number.”

    A file was checked, the result being that Number 86 was an old woman in a wheelchair who died a week ago!

    “The eight is out of line with the number six” the Observer reported “making the number off centre. It looks like the 8 has been added to the 6. What is that, nail varnish?”

    “More like paint” said the Supervisor “and the trousers are fawn, not black, zoom in on the face of our friend here, let’s see who he is.”

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    The camera zoomed in on the face of the Top Hat official.

    “Freeze the picture” said the Supervisor “digitally remove those dark glasses.”

    “Why it’s Number Six!” the Supervisor exclaimed in surprise picking up the yellow ‘L’ shaped telephone “get me Number Two, quickly.”

    “Number 2 here, what is it, what do you want?”

    The Supervisor made his report to Number 2, and asked if he should have Number 6 apprehended?

    “If Number Six wants to play games, who am I to stop him?” said Number 2 “besides, I want to know what he’s up to. Alert security and  watch him!”

   Inside the foyer of the Town Hall several Top Hat officials were queuing up at a pair of French doors, which permitted access at the touch of a button set in the wall. So Number 86, with the document case tucked under his arm joined the back of the queue, and waited his turn. Once through the pair of French doors Number 86 found himself walking along a grey painted corridor which he had once walked before, and knew that he would come to a checkpoint. Hence the need for the two small white security pass discs he found in his overcoat pocket. Further down, the corridor broadened out into a small reception area with a round table beyond which was the security checkpoint at which the Top Hats were queuing up to go through. Number 86 hung back ferreting about in the document case as he played for time, watching those before him go through the checkpoint.

    There was a small red speaker set into the wall and beneath that a small black box.

    “Your business please”’ asked a voice from the speaker as the next Top Hat official stood waiting.

    “Administration-logistics” the Top Hat official stated, placing a small white security pass disc into the narrow slot of the black box.

    Slowly the black box gave a whirring sound as the lid began to lift up and open, and from inside a small white hand emerged as the lid of the box opened, it quickly snatched the small disc, disappearing back into the box, and the lid snapped shut.

    “Proceed to pass….. pass” said the voice sending the Top Hat official on his way as the next official stepped forward.

    Number 86 watched and waited, feeling the pair of security pass discs in his pocket which he turned over in his hands. They were

identical with a small Penny Farthing on either side. Before he knew it Number 86 was alone in the reception area, slowly he approached the security check point, knowing full well the electrical force field which prevented unwarranted access.
    “Your business please?” asked a voice.

    “Administration-logistics” he said confidently and placed a security pass disc into the narrow slot of the black box.

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    There came the whirring sound as the lid began to lift up and open, again a small white hand emerged snatching the white disc, and disappeared with it back into the black box.

    “Pass” the voice announced.

    Number 86 stepped passed the checkpoint walking along the grey walled corridor which was just one of many forming a maze of corridors beneath The Village. Each as identical as the next, and patrolled by two white helmet clad security guards. There were a number of frosted glass doors, projection, studio, Department of Visual Records, Administration, and Records and Information, he tried the door marked General Office, and found it unlocked. He stepped in closing the door behind him. The room was more akin to a gentleman’s study. Removing his dark glasses Number 86 put his leather documents case down upon a table and looked at the computer screen on the desk which displayed a Penny Farthing screen saver. He pulled back the chair and sat down at the desk and moved the mouse. The screen-saver disengaged, to his surprise found the computer still to be logged on! He typed one single word into the search box information. An index appeared on the screen and he began to scroll down, and then it hit him. A white truncheon in the white gloved hand of a security guard brought down hard on the back of his head!
    When Number 6 regained consciousness he was sitting in a chair in an almost bare room save for another chair and plain wooden desk. A single light hung from the ceiling.
    “What room is this?”
    “The interrogation room” Number 2 told him.
    He was accompanied by Number 8, both dressed in Top Hat official uniform, and two snowdrop security guards.

    “What’s this, an undertaker’s convention?” quipped Number 6.

    “I see you have not lost your sense of humour. But choose your next witticism with care, as it might be your last” Number 2 replied sternly.

    There was another man in the room, another official sat behind the desk, he was taking notes. At a nod from Number 2 he rose and left the room.

    “What’s the matter with them, off to a funeral?” quipped Number 6.

    “Yours if you do not co-operate!” said Number 2

    “I have suffered threats before, and yet here I am” Number 6 replied with confidence.

    “Yes but then you were under protection” said Number 2 laying a

hand upon the black leather document case lying on the desk.

    Number 6 looked at it, but made no recognition of it.

    “Yes it is yours Number Six, or at least the one in your possession; however we will come to that in a minute. First what were you doing in the office of records and information?”
    “I needed some information, and that seemed to be the mostly likely place to find it!”

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    “Don’t get flippant with me Six! Who gave you the security pass discs?”

   “I found them in the pocket of the overcoat.”

    “Which you took from the dead body of the courier, as well as his shoes, top hat, along with this black leather document case which I have here. I thank you for delivering it into my hands Number Six, I am grateful for that at least. That just might go in your favour when it comes to your trial” said Number 2 with a broad grin on his face, about to reveal his victory.
    “I received a communiqué. Remember that clone of yours who was unfortunately released into the big wide world? Well apparently he’s been tracked down. You wouldn’t believe the chaos he’s been causing, and then somehow he managed to trace Professor Seltzman, and to be quite honest it gets all rather confusing. In short, for his continued freedom he gave us The Village file, and all the photographs which you took, and had squirreled away.
    Number 2 picked up the document case and squeezed it with relish, before unzipping it to find the case stuffed with copies of The Tally Ho, Village Weekly, Tally Ho Journal, and Village Mercury!

    Number 2 was flabbergasted “What skulduggery is this?” he barked pulling out the contents of the case.

    “It means we’ve both been duped!” Number 6 said with a smile.

    “Where are they, the file, the photographs, what have you done with them?” Number 2 demanded, now in a state of utter confusion.

    Number 8 then put in his two pennyworth in “Who are you in league with Number Six, who did you give the file and photographs to, someone here in The Village. Give me their name.”

    “You’ll get nothing from him. He’s trained to resist interrogation techniques” said Number 2 “give me what I want and I can make it easy for you.”
    “You clearly won’t believe me” Number 6 said “But I cannot give you what I haven’t got!”
    “Number Eight, I want you and your men to tear this village apart, raise it to the ground if you have to......”
    “Why not save him the time and energy” Number 6 said “clearly my clone has managed to outwit your men, or whoever, certainly the courier.”

    “You’ve been having a game with me!”

    “Yeeeesssss, sorry I couldn’t resist that. Tell me, are you going to bring my clone back to The Village? Do you in fact know what he looks like now?”

    “Ah yes, your clone who was to have escaped The Village to retrieve that which was so close to being mine, for him to return here with a rescue team and effect your escape. Your clone apparently had a plan

all his own. He betrayed not only you, but also the hand that created him. He turned out to be as treacherous and devious as you!” Number 2 was pleased to inform the Prisoner.

    “Where is he now?”

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    “He disappeared soon after making contact with Professor Jacob Seltzman, who we are also unable to trace” said Number 2 “It’s possible that your clone has undergone a mind transference.”

    “Professor Seltzman, he’s still alive, after all these years?”
    “He’s the same in mind, if not in body!”
    “And my clone?”
    “He’s no better than you are!”
    “But at least he’s not going about wearing my face” Number 6 said

suddenly leaping from his seat taking on the two security men.     
     Number 8 took advantage and made good his own escape dashing out through the glass frosted door and into the corridor. Number 6 was subdued and restrained. Number 2 smiled, picked up a yellow ‘L’ shaped telephone from the table, and calling the Control Room issued an Orange Alert. Number 8 ran the length of the corridor, turning left, then right, and right again, then another left until he was unsure which way was out in this underground labyrinth of identical corridors. Then came a blood curdling roar, a cross between a bicycle pump, Gregorian chant, and someone breathing through an aqua lung! And suddenly there it was, at the far end of the corridor, as though the white mass of the Guardian was being viewed down a perspective glass. It rolled forward, not more that three feet in circumference, but growing in size the closer it got to its prey. Number 8 turned to find he was at the end of the corridor! But that wasn’t possible, he turned and the white membranic mass of the Guardian was upon him. He screamed, and screamed again, oh how he screamed. His face suddenly smothered by white, almost transparent membrane which his fingers clawed at, as he gasped for breath. As the Guardian rolled back, the body of Number 8 slumped to the floor.

    “What will you do with him?”
    “You heard him scream, a burial would seem to be favourite!” Number 2 replied without feeling. “I don’t know what part Number Eight played in this. But a man with nothing to hide, has nothing to find!”

   “I have nothing to hide” the Prisoner told him.

   “Then I have nothing to find, Number Eight was your clone, having infiltrated himself back in The Village!”
   “And together we burnt the material that was to have been yours!” Number 6 finally admitted “so what happens now?”

   “That is entirely up to you my dear fellow” Number 2 began “try to settle down. Life here could give you peace of mind, if only you’d stop interfering with those things which do not concern you.”

   “That has never been my way!” Number 6 told him.

   “You see, that’s just the kind of attitude that will do you no good in the end” Number 2 told him.

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   Later that day Number 2 was in his office busy working on his report. Suddenly the oversized curved red telephone, began to bleep impatiently. He leaned forward out of his chair picking up the telephone and announced himself “Number 2 here…..yes sir, things didn’t quite work out as planned, yet in the best possible way.......the clone is dead, a funeral will be held tomorrow, he will be buried as Number Eight.......What had he tried to gain? Who can say sir, perhaps the escape of Number Six..................they were destroyed by Number 6 and his confederate, so I suppose in that regard the case is closed.......Well you know yourself sir, anything involving Number Six invariably ends in failure!......yes sir, I realise the responsibility ultimately lies with me sir” the telephone call was suddenly terminated.

    Tomorrow there would be another funeral, Top Hats and Undertakers, Top Hats and Undertakers!

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An Exercise In Logistics Chapter {episode} 22

 

The Panoptican Syndrome

    The Village is a place where people turn up, people with knowledge to be safeguarded or extracted, a place where life goes on much the same as the day before, and  the day before that. Its citizens go happily about their daily lives, prisoners and warders alike. Control over the citizens is administered by Number 2 Chairman of The Village, through the power of surveillance which is carried out by the Observers who are reputed to see and hear everything!

    In the Control Room the Supervisor-Number 56 was less than ninety seconds away from a calamity. All monitoring systems were working, all surveillance cameras were on the top line, and yet in less than one minute chaos would reign. And then without any warning all the surveillance cameras went down and instantly the supervisor and the Observers were blind! The cause, perhaps it was the slip of a screwdriver, a wrong electrical connection, a short circuit caused by crossed wiring, or a spanner dropped in the works by accident or otherwise. Whatever the cause surveillance operations in the Control Room had ground to a halt. Observers turned from their black screened monitors, and the two Observers riding up and down, round and round on the steel see saw device all turned to the Supervisor. The Supervisor picked up the yellow ‘L’ shaped telephone in his usual calm manner and called maintenance.
     “Supervisor here, all Control Room surveillance systems are down. What’s the problem?....... Yes I know you were carrying out major maintenance work……. you are sure about that………. how long?”

    “How long?” asked Number 2 into the telephone “and you’re sure it wasn’t sabotage?”

    “A group of technicians were carrying out some minor systems maintenance work. Crossed wiring caused a wide spread short circuit, causing two electrical fires” the Supervisor explained.

    “I want those men reprimanded!”
    “Yes Number Two, but I think we have a larger problem to deal with at the moment. The Observers are blind, and until systems are back on line we shall have to rely on the guardians.

    Number 2, a man of medium height, slight build, with white hair, and wearing horn rimmed spectacles, turned the problem over and over in his mind and then an idea struck him.

    “Supervisor I want you to select your best Observer for special duties. Then the both of you are to come to my office immediately.”

    “You have a solution?” asked the Supervisor.

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    “I will explain my plan when you come to my office, and on your way you might collect the keys to the Camera Obscura.”

    “The Camera Obscura, what has that to do with anything?” questioned the Supervisor.

   “Almost everything, oh and you might as well stand the Observers down, the citizens will be safe enough for the time being, they don’t know they are not being watched!”
    The Supervisor ordered Number 252, a woman in the mid thirties to accompany him to the Green Dome, and collected the keys to the Camera Obscura on the way.
    “Do you know why Number Two wants to see me?” 252 asked.
    “All I know is that that Number Two has a solution to the current problem of surveillance, I suppose you along with the Camera Obscura are the two parts of his plan!”
    They hurried from the Town Hall along the cobbled path, crossing the road and mounting the steps up to the Green Dome. In the foyer stood the butler.

   “Yes” said the butler.

   “We are here to see Number Two” said the Supervisor about to push his way passed him.

    The butler held out an arm across the open doorway “Numbers?”
    The Supervisor shot the butler a frustrated look “You know me, I’ve been here before.”

    A worried look crossed the Observers face. The butler smiled at her, but did not remove his arm.

    “Oh very well, I’m the Supervisor.”
    “Did I ask you what you did for a living?” said the butler persistently.

    “Oh very well, Number Fifty-six, and this is Number Two five-two.”

    “Do you have an appointment?”
    “Number Two instructed me to bring this lady to see him on a matter of grave urgency” the Supervisor explained.
    The butler eyed the couple, then removing his arm, turned and stepped towards the pair of steel doors which opened automatically.

   The butler standing in the doorway announced the two visitors “The Supervisor Number Fifty-Six and Observer Number Two five-two to see you” and stepped to one side to allow the two visitors access.

    “Will there be anything else?” asked the butler.

    “No, and I do not wish to be disturbed for at least thirty minutes”

retorted Number 2 rising up out of his black spherical chair.

    “Right! I’ve polished your top hat, also brushed your black suit and overcoat which are laid out ready for your meeting with the board this afternoon” the butler informed him.

    “Ah the meeting with the board, I had forgotten about that” returned Number 2 walking from behind his curved desk.

    “Just as well I’m here to remind you then!”
    “Cancel that meeting” Number 2 ordered.

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    “Cancel it?”
    “That’s what I said!”
    The butler withdrew and the pair of steel doors slid shut.

    “This is Number Two-five- two she is my best Observer” stated the Supervisor with confidence.

    “Is that true my dear?” asked Number 2 looking the girl up and down.

    “I do my job to the best of my ability sir. I get to know my subjects very well” 252 returned in a quiet tone of voice.
    “I’m sure you do, do sit down” 2 said pressing a button on the control panel.
    A round panel in the floor slid away and a black leather chair rose up through the whole in the floor.

    “But they don’t know you do they?”

    “No sir” answered 252 with an unfeeling air in her voice.

    “Does that bother you?” Number 2 asked.

    “No Number Two. I’m told observers of life should never get involved” returned 252 with austere conviction

    “Good, excellent” said Number 2, who could not be more pleased “I am pleased to inform you that you are to be promoted, please do sit down.”
    She looked at the black chair, walked over to it and sat down.

    “Promoted sir?” asked the Supervisor “promoted to what?”

    “Promoted to the position of Inspector. What do you have to say to that…….. Inspector” smiled a highly delighted Number 2.

    Number 252 did not know quite what to say, and simply said “Thank you sir.”

     “But there isn’t a position of Inspector to be promoted to sir” the Supervisor said.

    “Well there is now, I have just created the vacant position, and what an important position it is to be promoted to that of Inspector” said Number 2 smiling at the woman.

    “What shall my duties as Inspector be?” Number 252 asked nervously.

    “As Inspector you will inspect and observe” then turning to the Supervisor “I take it you brought the key to the Camera Obscura with you?”

    “Yes Number Two” the Supervisor said producing a large key from his blazer pocket.

    “Step forward my dear” Number 2 said with a kindly and disarming smile.

    The newly promoted Inspector did as she was asked.

    “I put this key in your charge Inspector” said Number 2 with some feeling of ceremony, “and I look for great things from you, because you will be responsible for the surveillance of The Village and its entire community for the immediate future.”

    “Yes sir” returned the Inspector “but if I may ask to what does this key belong?”

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    “It is the key to your office!”

    “In the Camera Obscura” added the Supervisor.

    Number 2 looked at the Supervisor “Thank you, yes the Camera Obscura, you know what that is don’t you my dear?”

    The newly appointed Inspector looked at Number 2 and lied “Yes Number Two.”

   “Then perhaps you would like to explain the working of the device to me.”

   Number 252 stood there thinking what to say, and said nothing.

   “You cannot deceive me two five-two. You don’t know what a Camera Obscura is…..do you?”
    “No, Number Two.”

   “Well never mind my dear, I know a man who does, and he will instruct you in its operation. You are going to be at the very core of a new social experiment.”

    “You will be the only Inspector responsible for maintaining surveillance over The Village and surrounding area reporting directly to the Supervisor in the Control Room via a telephone link. You will be free to come and go to the Camera Obscura as you wish, but it is imperative that no-one should observe your coming and going, do you understand?”

    “I do. But is it not too much for just one Inspector, I cannot be there all the time….”

    Number 2 looked upon the Inspector with a kindly smile “That’s the trick of the thing, that the good citizens of our community will know you are at your post in the Camera Obscura, but not when. Given time, the citizens will effectively control their own behaviour, because they cannot know when they are being observed. Simple don’t you think?”

    “If the citizens do not know the surveillance cameras are down, will the result not be the same?” asked the Supervisor.

    “It would be if it were not noticeable that the cameras are not operating” Number 2 replied “so we shall be straight with them, and tell them they are not working hence the need for the newly appointed Inspector. Do either of you know what a Panoptican is?” Number 2 asked.

    “Yes” replied the Supervisor with a look of satisfaction “the Panoptican is basically a prison without bars, come to think of it no prison doors either!”

    “The trick on the side of the Inspector who was positioned in a tower in the centre of the Panoptican was to keep watch over the prisoners who never knew when they were under surveillance because the prisoners never knew when exactly the inspector was actually in his tower. The prisoners behavioural patterns changed when being under constant surveillance. They behaved, not making any form of trouble, nor did they attempt to escape. Because the prisoners never knew when the Inspector was in his tower keeping the prisoners under his

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Watch. In effect they behaved exactly the same, whether the Inspector was in his tower or not!”

    “Control through uncertainty and discipline” offered the Inspector.

    “You have an instant grasp of the situation Inspector” 2 said “Supervisor take the Inspector to the Camera Obscura and instruct her in the workings of the device.”

    “Yes Number Two at once.”

    The Inspector followed the Supervisor up the ramp and out through the open steel doors as Number 2 picked up a turquoise ‘L’ shaped telephone “Put me though to The Tally Ho……editorial department.”

    Ting a ling-ling-ling sounded the shop bell as Number 6 entered The General Store. He took a copy of The Tally Ho newspaper from the rack and approached the counter, behind which the shopkeeper stood arranging a display of fresh cheeses. Number 122 was of medium height, he wore a blue and white striped apron and straw boater. He turned away from the display, and looked at his next customer.

    “Good morning sir, The Tally Ho that will be two Credit Units if you please. Will there be anything else?” asked the shopkeeper as Number 6 placed the newspaper on the counter.

    “Yes I’d like a pencil and a small notebook” retorted Number 6 with a smile and one hand upon the counter.

     “Very good sir” said the shopkeeper turning his back and opening the cabinet behind him, from which he turned back, and laid a pencil and black notebook on the counter “there you are sir.”

    “It’s not an HB pencil” Number 6 said picking up the pencil.

    “No sir, it’s a three B pencil” observed the shopkeeper “you want an HB pencil?”

    “If you would be so kind” said Number 6 with a smile.
    The shopkeeper turned back to the cabinet, opened it, took a box of

pencils from therein, and turning back to the counter, HB pencil in hand “There you are sir. Will there be anything else?”
    “No I don’t think so” he said and paid with his admix card.
    “Be seeing you sir” bid the shopkeeper.
    “And you” 6 replied

    Ting a ling-ling ting a ling

    Outside, The Village was covered by a cloudless pale blue sky and bathed in glorious sunshine. As Number 6 walked down the road he became aware of a quite pleasant smell, an aroma which curiously belongs to The Village alone, conjured by a particular mixture of fragrant plants, flowers and bushes and always at this time of year. Arriving at the cafe he looked for a vacant table outside, and seeing one in the corner of the patio he made direct for it and sat down. A middle aged waitress in a dark blue dress, white frilly apron and white sailor’s hat came over to take his order.

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    “Black coffee and toast” Number 6 ordered opening his copy of the broadsheet newspaper that is The Tally Ho, the head line read:

An Inspector Is Appointed!

    Due to unforeseen problems with the surveillance system, a newly appointed Inspector will now be responsible for maintaining security of the citizens. The Inspector will be based in the Camera Obscura, and will be the all seeing eye over The Village and its citizens.

    Number 6 put the broadsheet down, there’s no surveillance, the cameras are down “What trick is this? he thought.
    The waitress returned with his coffee and toast, placing the things on the table.

    “That will be eight credit units if you please sir” the waitress told him.

    “And if I don’t please?” asked Number 6 sarcastically taking his

Admix card from the breast pocket of his blazer.

  “It will still be eight credit units sir” returned the waitress taking his Admix and swiping it in her credit card swipe.

    Putting his card back into his breast pocket Number 6 sipped his coffee and crunched on his buttered toast.

    “Ah there you are Number Six” said a young man dressed in a brown piped blazer and straw boater.

 “So it would seem” retorted Number 6 contemptuously without taking his eyes off his chess problem in the paper.

    “There’s a chess match in a few minutes, can I save you a chess pole?” Number 24 asked eagerly “after all you’re a fine player of the game and all that.”

    “Flattery will get you almost anywhere, but not today” returned Number 6 taking a sip of his black coffee.

    “Well just come and watch anyway” 24 urged eagerly.

    “You seem very insistent that I be in your company this morning, why should that be?” asked Number 6 casually

    “No particular reason Number Six, only I know how fond you are of chess, by the way what do you think of this new Inspector thing? I would have thought they would have enough Observers, wouldn’t you?” 24 asked.

    “I couldn’t possibly comment, not being privy to the inner most working of the administration here” Number 6 replied.

   “Some of us think it’s the thin end of the wedge. What do you think?” 24 asked.

    “I think it’s time for your game of chess, I will observe from the touch line” Number 6 told the eager chess piece.

    Having finished his breakfast Number 6 made his way across the piazza descended the steps down onto The Village green where the human chess game was about to commence. It was a colourful event drawing quite a number of spectators. The two callers or players approached the board then took their positions at the top  of high chairs, two ushers dressed in baseball caps, chequered blazers and striped shorts stood by the board in readiness to escort any piece taken off the board.

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    Number 6 was on hand to observe, but not just the game.

    “Pawn to King 4.”

    “Pawn to King 3” replied the second caller without delay.

    “Knight to King’s Bishop 3”

    “Knight to King’s Bishop 3”

    “Pawn to Queen’s Knight 3”

    “Bishop to Queen’s Bishop 4”

    The game progressed through the opening moves Number 6 began to calculate what the next two or three moves might be as he followed the game when something in the corner of his eye took his attention. The bust of Voltaire set upon a plinth a few feet away, it was known to hold a surveillance camera, but which had not rotated once in either direction, so a confirmation of a now known fact!

    Meanwhile the chess match came to an  end.

    “Queen to King’s Knight seven… checkmate” called a chess player.

    This brought about a round of applause from chess pieces and spectators alike, the chess pieces remaining on the board shook hands as did the two chess players when the met together on the board.

    “Hello Number 6, enjoy the game?” asked a voice behind him.   

    “You managed to stay on the board right to the end game this time” Number 6 replied “Shall we walk?”

    “What are you up to now Number Six?”

    “The camera in the bust of Voltaire isn’t working, what’s more there was no sign of an electrician to affect a repair, don’t you find that curious?”
    “Perhaps he’s still on his way, you know how slow those tractors are.”
    “Yes, but in an emergency they walk!”
    “Your point being?”
    “The whole surveillance system is down.”
    “Where have you been, it’s common knowledge!” 24 told him.
    “You see the possibility?”
    “For what?”
    “Escape!” 6 suggested.

    “Look” 24 said “citizens going about their daily lives and business. Taxi’s plying their trade, people promenading in the Piazza, the Admiral and flag officer sailing their battleships in the Free Sea. Painters paint walls, gardeners tending the flower border, trimming hedges, mowing lawns, and window cleaners...well cleaning windows.

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Life goes on no matter what Six because they know the Inspector is

watching!

    “Who’s the Inspector?”

    “No-one knows.”  

    “How do you know he’s watching?”
    “We don’t know the Inspector is a he, might be a she.”
    “How then, with the cameras down?”
    “No idea, but let it go Number Six, that’s my advice, no point in going looking for trouble.”
    “Well you know me Twenty-four” Number 6 said gazing into the lens of a surveillance camera.

    For the next hour or so Number 6 wandered The Village upsetting people. The painter busy painting a wall was given the authority treatment, in complaining about how long the job was taking, in his best commanding voice. The painter responded.
    “What’s it got to do with you?
    The result was much the same with a gardener, the postman who was late on his round. He questioned a woman with a camera.
    “What do you think you are doing?”
    “Taking photographs of the Village” 188 said.
    “That could be considered as being an act of spying?”
    “I’m not a spy, I’m a member of The Village photographic society, and you know what they say.”
    “No what do they say?”
    “You can never have enough photographs of The Village!”
    Number 6 approached others, trying to upset him, enough to get himself both noticed and reported. But no guardians turned up to take him in charge and drag him off to see Number 2. So he went back to his cottage, and was greeted by a young man who had made himself at home. A tall lean man with dark brown hair.

    “You’re a bit of a nuisance aren’t you Number Six” Number 22 told him.

    “Am I, you tell me” quipped Number 6.

    “I just did, you have been going about upsetting people” Number 22 said.

    “So you noticed!”
    “I didn’t, the Inspector did.”

    “So he was watching after all. Can I offer you a drink?” Number 6 asked politely, picking up the whisky bottle.

    “I’m here to take you to see Number Two.”
    “Oh I see, you’re the new hand!”

    Outside in The Village the citizens were all going about their daily lives as usual, there was talk and discussion about the newly appointed Inspector. The consensus seemed to be that the Inspector would not have an effect on their way of life, nor for the innocent, only the malcontents in The Village may fear the all seeing eye of the Inspector!

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    It was but a short walk from ‘6 Private’ to the Green Dome, the butler was standing in the foyer as the door opened.

    “He’s waiting to see you” the butler said leading the way, opening a pair of French doors, and walking up a small ramp.

    The pair of steel doors opened, allowing, the butler to admit Number 6.

    “Numbers Twenty-two and Six to see you” announced the butler before turning and walking away, the steel doors closing behind him.

    Number 2 was sitting in his chair behind his desk speaking on the telephone to electrics control, listening to an update report on the current situation “Just make sure the work is completed on time, yes I know you are having problems, but if this latest experiment shows favourable results then the whole of the surveillance system, yes I am aware that such a problem is never very far away, such a problem has just walked in” and he put the phone down on his desk “what a pleasant surprise Number Six.”

    “Surprise really. I was under the impression that I had been summoned to the headmaster’s study!” smirked Number 6.

    “Whatever gave you that Idea?”

    “Perhaps it was the fact that I was brought here by the school prefect!” Number 6 told him.

    “Can I offer you some refreshment in return.”

    “In return for what?”

   “Always suspicious, aren’t we Number Six? You don’t even wear your Number!” Number 2 observed, walking from behind his desk and approaching the Prisoner.

    “I’m not the only one. Why don’t you do something about that butler of yours? He doesn’t wear a number either!” returned Number 6 with a wry smile.

    “My, we are observant today aren’t we? Perhaps he takes after you” retorted Number 2 turning away from his visitor.

    “You had better hope not, for your sake” Number 6 grinned.

    “You know what you are? You’re a trouble maker, and this Village will not tolerate trouble makers. There have been complaints, the latest one from Number One-three-three” Number 2 informed him turning back to face the Prisoner.

    ‘You haven’t asked what my complaints are yet!” retorted Number 6 flippantly.

    “Number One-three-three’s complaint is one of intimidation towards her when all she was doing was taking photographs for the photographic competition. Really Number Six you should be more tolerant towards your fellow citizens” Number 2 suggested.

    Number 6 folded his arms instantly putting up a barrier “I would have thought you had problems enough, without bothering about me!”

    Number 2 feigned disinterest “Really, why do you say that?”

    “Don’t you have a problem with your surveillance cameras?”

    ‘Yes, I was just coming to that. As well as intimidating innocent citizens you’ve been poking your nose into our cameras!”

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    At that moment the steel doors opened, and the butler pushed a trolley down the ramp toward Number 2’s desk where upon he set out a silver tea service, two bone china cups and saucers, together with milk and sugar bowl.

    “I didn’t know if you wanted Indian of China, so I brought both. Mind you I prefer cocoa myself, but I made tea” said the butler smugly.

    “That will be all” said Number 2 to his manservant.

    “Wait a minute” said Number 6 to the butler “why is it you do not wear your number?”

    The tall, handsome faced butler stopped pushing his trolley and turned to face the Prisoner “Numbers aren’t for the likes of me, I’m not a prisoner you know! Besides you’re not wearing yours, fall off in the street did it?”

    “I am not a number I’m me!” the Prisoner said.

    “Yeah that’d be right!” retorted the butler with no show of emotion.

    “Thank you. That will be all” said Number 2, watching his personal gentleman’s gentleman withdraw “A loyal servant. Shall I be mother?” Number 2 asked eagerly picking up the silver coffee pot.

    “As you will” returned Number 6 with folded arms, and perching himself on the curve of the desk.

    “Indian or China?” asked Number 2 his hand hovering over the two tea pots.

    “Either” said Number 6.

   Number 2 selected the teapot and poured out two steaming hot cups of tea, handing a cup and saucer to Number 6 who helped himself to two sugar cubes.

    “I am pleased you’re here” Number 2 informed him.

    “At least that’s one of us whose happy!” quipped Number 6 “Who is the Inspector?”

    “The Inspector is the solution to a current problem.”

    “The Inspector cannot be watching and listening all the time. Someone might take advantage and instigate a mass breakout” Number 6 suggested sipping his tea.

    “And who is to instigate this mass breakout, you? Is this you warning me?” Number 2 said sitting back in his chair.

    “Not me, but the idea might cross some bright sparks mind.”
    “You have seen, people out there enjoying themselves, all behaving correctly, all under the all seeing presence of the Inspector. More than that it’s psychology of the conditioned mind, control through uncertainty!”

    Number 6 finished his tea and walked up the ramp to the steel which remained doors closed.

    “I have one of the Inspector’s reports on my desk. Oddly enough it concerns you and all of your activities this morning” 2 told him.
   “And whilst the Inspector has been watching me, what’s everyone else been doing?”

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    “You still do not get it do you Number Six, not everyone falls under the gaze of the Inspector. Shall I list all of your activities for you?”
    “Why bother, I lived through them all!”

    “I’m so glad that you see it that way” said Number 2 closing the file “I am delighted to have had this little chat with you Number Six, and to have been able to put your mind to rest on the current situation. Perhaps if you have any further doubts you might like to put them to a practical demonstration.”

    “How so?” asked Number 6.

    “Escape my dear chap, escape!’” Number 2 answered as though offering out a challenge.

    The steel doors suddenly slid open and Number 6 turned and stormed out.

    Outside on the balcony of the Green Dome Number 6 found himself leaning against the stone balustrade muttering something about the Inspector, the all seeing presence over The Village. Then while he stood there looking down at the citizens he began to shout down to them “This is our chance take it now. The Observers are blind, the cameras are down, no-one is watching. Your deliverance is at hand. Escape now and be free!”

    Not one of the citizens in the square paid any heed to the voice; no-one looked up at the figure standing on the balcony, they remained undisturbed as they passed through the square on their way to the General Store, passed by along the street, or sat on benches their conversations unbroken whilst as Number 6 maintained his ranting about freedom and escape. He finally fell silent leaning forward with his hands on top of the balustrade then dashed off down the steps of the Green Dome across the street, across the square, to a man wearing a yellow and black striped blazer and straw boater. He physically shook the man by the shoulders “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

    “Yes’ said Number 234 unmoved by this sudden physical attack on his person.

    “Then why do you just stand here like this?” Number 6 demanded.

    “What do you think you’re doing? You mustn’t!”

    “Why not, who’s to see?”

    Number 234 looked nervously about him “The Inspector!”

    “Who’s the Inspector?”

    “No-one knows, but the Inspector is always watching” Number 234 said nervously.

    ‘How do you know if you have never seen this Inspector?’

    “Everyone knows the Inspector is always in the tower” 234 answered.

    “How do you know he is in his tower, which tower?”

    Number 6 fell quiet as though something had suddenly struck him dumb. Instantly he went dashing off through a gate to the base of the bell tower, the door was unlocked. He burst in and dashed up the step to the top of the bell tower. The wind blew all around him, from this lofty position he could see all around The Village, and the estuary. But he top of the Bell Tower did afford a clear view all around, and surely no such Inspector would be situated right up here, such was the precariousness of the lofty position, not to mention affording no protection against the elements. No Inspector would be perched at the top of the bell tower for any great length of time!

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    Later that afternoon Number 6 could be found at the Old People’s Home. He was sitting at table on the lawn having his portrait painted by one of the residents. The artist a small eccentric gentleman in a large light blue beret and striped sweater with a small white goatee beard which gave him a look of Renoir about him.

    “You moved. Please don’t fidget” 94 told his sitter.

    “Sorry” Number 6 replied finding another comfortable sitting position, he seemed to have been sitting for hours, but really it had only been ten minutes.

    “Quite comfortable? Good. Then I shall continue” said the artist who mixed a little more paint on his palate before applying it to the canvas.

    “Of course we know the Inspector is watching” began Number 94 “you know it, I know it, it does not mean we are sympathetic to the situation, nor make any difference to the community, because there has always been surveillance. The Observers see and hear everything, and we are aware of the cameras, so much so that they can be taken for granted and forgotten about, that’s surveillance for you. But now there is the all seeing presence of the Inspector. It makes no difference to you or I.”

    “Why do people behave so normally, when there could be the possibility of escape?” Number 6 asked indicating other citizens on the lawn.

    “They behave like they do because they are never sure” the artist informed him.

    “Never sure of what?” asked Number 6 fidgeting in his seat again.

    “Please sit still” urged the artist “unsure whether they are being watched or not. So people behave correctly at all times. Social control and conforming to the power of surveillance I believe it is called.”

    “You mean the citizens know if there are times when they are not being observed?” Number 6 asked.

    “Of course, that stands to reason, doesn’t it?” asked the artist from

behind his canvas.

    “Then there are times when we are not being observed, and if we know when that is, there is room for escape.”

    “I suppose so, but no-one is prepared to take the risk. We know we are being observed, but not when!” the artist said, peering out from behind his canvas “besides where would anyone escape to?”

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    “Back to their homelands their own people, friends and family” Number 6 told him.

    “For some maybe, but not for those born of The Village here is home, there is nowhere else for them to go. For others, The Village offers no pressures of daily life, no conundrums, no disagreements, no doubts, only harmony. Only you want escape!”

    “No freedom, no independence, no choice, no rights for the individual, what kind of existence is it without those?” Number 6 argued.

    “There is freedom even within the prison! There is a saying here no doubt you have heard of it. A still tongue makes a happy life”’ the artist informed him.

    “And what does that get you?” Number 6 asked sarcastically.

    “A quiet life” snapped the artist “don’t you sometimes crave the quiet life Number Six?”

    ‘”I still don’t believe in this tame Inspector. I climbed the bell tower earlier today.”

    “What did you do that for, don’t tell me you like the view!” the artist said dipping his paint brush in light blue paint.

    “To find the inspector, the bell tower being the highest point in The Village.”

    The artist began to laugh to himself “The Inspector wouldn’t be in the bell tower. You were looking in the wrong place. It’s the Camera Obscura where you should have been looking.”

    “Camera Obscura?” asked Number 6.

    The artist looked quizzically at him “Don’t tell me you don’t know about the Camera Obscura, you must be new here!”

    “Where is this Camera Obscura?” Number 6 asked.

    “You can see it from here, down along the sea wall, the white tower with the star on top of its peak” the artist told him pointing in the direction with his paintbrush.

    “And the Inspector is in there? That white tower?”

    “Look, how am I to finish your portrait if you keep moving about?”

    “Is the Inspector there now?’ asked Number 6 calmly.

    “We might well be under surveillance as we speak” 94 replied.

    “Have you never seen this Inspector?”

    “See the Inspector!” the artist chuckled “no one has seen the Inspector, the Inspector sees you!”

    “If no-one has never see the Inspector how do you know….. how do you know he exists?” barked Number 6 loudly.

    “We don’t. That is the control the Inspector has over us” the artist said applying himself to the portrait.

In his office of the Green Dome Number 2 had received a report regarding the current state of surveillance. The pair of bomb blast steel doors slid open and his assistant Number 22 marched smartly down the ramp.
    “Number Six climbed the bell tower earlier today” 22 reported.

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    “Why did he do that?”

    “I can think of only one reason.”
    “If you’re going to say he likes the scenery, or was looking for a signs of life beyond The Village I don’t want to hear it!”
    “My money would be on Number Six looking for the Inspector!”

    “Then he was barking up the wrong tower!” quipped Number 2.
    “If you ask me” 22 said “this social experiment seems to me to be a waste of time.
    “No-one did ask you Twenty-two.”
    “Yes but if the announcement about the surveillance cameras being down, no-one would have been any the wiser, and still the citizens would behave mush the same.”
   “But if someone did find out the cameras were down, what then, we would have had no control whatsoever!”
    “Point taken sir.”
    “I’m pleased that it is.”
    “There is another aspect to this situation” Number 22 suggested.
    “Which is?”
    “If the experiment works, there would no longer be any need for the Observers!”
    “I don’t see any reason why the experiment should fail, its going along quite nicely in fact.”
    “There is always Number Six!”
    “Yes, the one rotten apple in the barrel!”

    “Then let me deal with him now, why give him the opportunity to run things?” Number 22 said who was more than eager to give Number 6 a good working over.

    “The Inspector reported Number Six sitting to have his portrait painted by Number Ninety-four. I hope he was able to allay Number 6’s suspicions a little?”

   “If anything only fuel was added to Number Six curiosity about the Inspector. That’s why something must be done about him” 22 suggested.

    Number 6 sat on the quayside halfway between the statue of Lady Hamilton at one end, and Lord Nelson at the other. He was keeping a watch on the Camera Obscura, and Number 22 was keeping a close eye on Number 6! The door to the white square tower was closed, a door by which the Inspector would come and go. But no! Number 6 sat on the quayside for two hours pretending to read the latest edition of The Tally Ho, and keeping an eye out in the bushes opposite Number 22 was getting cramp! Number 6 made certain observation of the tower, which at first sight appeared to be rather impressive, yet at second sight it was rather squat. Half way up was a large open window with no glass, and each window appeared to have a small balcony. Higher up there was a shuttered window on each side. At the very pinnacle of the tower was a boxed square with optic lens on each side, and above that a star which was rotating. This indicated to Number 6 that the Inspector was at home, and operating the Camera Obscura, possibly with him in the Inspectors sights!

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    Folding The Tally Ho Number 6 eased himself off the wall and began to walk along the path, observed by Number 22 and perhaps the Inspector. At the top of a set of steps was a plain wooden door, it was padlocked on the outside, thus making it impossible for anyone to actually leave the tower. Taking his picklock from his blazer pocket Number 6 quickly opened the padlock and pulled back the bolt recurring the door. While Number 22 stepped out from the bushes and watched Number 6 sip inside the tower. Closing the door behind him he climbed the steps passing the small open windows, which actually helped the tower look taller than it actually was.     
    At the top of the steps was an open trapdoor, at the top was a darkened room, dark because shutters were closed over four small windows. Opening a shutter Number 6 saw a round white table, above him two control rods, and four lenses. He got the impression that the Inspector had recently vacated the tower. He closed the wooden trapdoor, and the shutter which enclosed the room into virtual blackness. Taking hold of the pair of controlling rods, he operated the contraption with a 360 degree span, and with differing angles of sight by use of the control rods. Views of The Village, the estuary and woods projected onto the round white table. He could see people enjoying themselves on the beach, taking tea on the lawn of the Old People’s home, as citizens scrambled about the Stoneboat. He was able to scan far out across the beach, the woods and The Village. Turning the control rods he looked down to see a Mini-Moke approaching, as the figure of Number 22 stood looking up at the tower. He watched as three burly set guardians step out of the taxi and stand talking with Number 22. One thing for sure he was trapped at the top of the tower! But if so, how did the Inspector leave this place of observation?
    Number 6 was so engrossed in the scene outside being played out on the table that he didn’t see the trapdoor raise up and the white helmeted security guard emerge from the steps below brandishing a white truncheon. But he felt it, as it was brought down on the back of his head, leaving his unconscious body draped over the round table. The scene outside of a parked taxi with the figures of Number 22 and the three burly men approaching the steps of Camera Obscura, projected onto the back of 6’s piped blazer.

    Number 6 began to regain consciousness. He found himself sitting in a black leather chair in Number 2’s office, with guardians standing on either side, and Number 22 standing at the side of his superior’s desk with Number 2 sat in his chair.

    “Ah, at last you’re back with us Number Six, this is a pretty kettle of fish I have to say. Been poking your nose in again where it isn’t wanted haven’t we” said Number 2 accusingly.

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    Number 6 scowled at his captures “How did you know?”

    “Know what?” Number 2 asked knowing full well what Number 6 had meant.

    “That I was in that tower” Number 6 growled, the back of his head feeling as though it had been caved in.

    “The starburst!” retorted Number 2 with a wry smile.

    “Starburst?” asked Number 6 wincing at the pain in his head.

    “The starburst on top of the Camera Obscura, when the device is being operated, the star on top of the tower rotates accordingly, but you knew that of course, and so you thought you would catch the Inspector at her post. But of course our friend Number Twenty-two here had you under close surveillance. He saw you break into the tower, and called security.”

    Number 6 remained silent, and ever defiant, the scowl on his face ever deepening.

    “You really are an obstinate fellow. It will do you no good in the end you know. After all what did you discover?” Number 2 asked the Prisoner.

    “That there is no Inspector” Number 6 growled the answer.

    “Well, not while you were there, there wasn’t. But that’s the trick. You never know when the Inspector is there and when she isn’t” Number 2 smiled with satisfaction.

    “I watched that tower for ages” Number 6 said.

    “Yes of course you did.”

    “All the time I was there I never saw anyone enter or leave that tower. There couldn’t have been an Inspector.”

    “Social control Number Six, the discipline of the mind and power through surveillance. Once that has been achieved, just having the thought of the Inspector indelibly impressed on the mind is control enough. Citizens when under long term surveillance their behavioural

pattern’s change to such a degree, that they behave the same whether they are being observed or not” Number 2 explained.

    “Not me!” retorted Number 6 in defiance of his captors.

    “Then how very uncomfortable for you old chap” Number 2 said with a smile.

    “Are you under constant surveillance?” Number 6 asked casually.

    “Why my dear fellow we are all under surveillance by an invisible

all seeing presence” Number 2 informed the Prisoner.

    “God?” the Prisoner suggested meekly.

    “Number One” retorted Number 2 with an obscure smile.

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