Omega (32) Beta frowned. "How can you joke like that? If there are ambulances then someone must have been hurt. Or even killed!" "Beta's right," Remarked the Actress thoughtfully. "If we can see so much smoke from up here, then it must have been a very large explosion. It's probably destroyed a building or at least damaged it pretty badly. It might be a car explosion. Or perhaps something left in a wastepaper bin. I can't be sure, but I'd be surprised if it were a coincidence that the General Election brought the Reds to power and that so many Illicit Party people are running amok in the City. I reckon it's the flipping Illicitists who've done that. So much for their flipping commitment to democracy!" The lioness waitress stood to one side of us. "I think that might be Lambdeth Square, where the theatres are. There won't be many plays on this evening if it is!" "I certainly hope it isn't!" Exclaimed the Actress, inhaling deeply on the thick stub of her cigarette. "I'm supposed to be on tonight!" She sat down pensively in her chair behind which was the picture of the Half Man after which the pub was named: the rear view of half a man whose open chest was packed with revellers. We sat beside her as a fleet of small helicopters and winged monkeys flew past the building towards the source of the smoke. "I hate the Illicit Party," restated the Actress. "What do you think, Beta dear?" "They're not well-known in the Village," Beta admitted. "They're a very new political party aren't they?" "And getting frighteningly popular in some sections, I'm afraid. They scare me. This Rupert might look jolly harmless, but then nobody would suspect a flipping koala of being a tyrannical despot. I think his bite is actually worse than his bark. Some of the reports coming from the Illiberal Socialist Republics are jolly distressing. Socialists and sympathisers tortured and assassinated. Trades Unionists jailed or murdered. Freedom of speech and expression totally banned. It'd be flipping dreadful if this country were to ever get like that. I just hope the trouncing that lot got in the General Election will be enough to kill the party off." "Why are they so upset about the Red Party winning the election that they'd riot and blow things up?" Wondered Beta, as the waitress arrived with her order of vegetarian cottage pie, turnips and swede. The Actress smiled at the waitress as her own order of lamb chops, roast potato and green salad was placed on the table in front of her. "I'm sure it's not the Red Party as such they object to, but it's a jolly convenient excuse to use all the generations of propaganda levelled by the wealthy and influential against them. They wouldn't have such an easy target, I suppose, if the Blues or the Whites had won. They just want to cause trouble. That's all. Disruption for its own sake!" "What is it that people object to about the Red Party?" I wondered. "Loss of vested interests, basically. The Red Party is concerned with fairness, equality and justice. It doesn't want to see some people so much better off than others and others so poor. It's wrong that some starve and others have too much. What the Red Party intends to do is stimulate the economy by creating jobs, increasing the relative wealth of the poor and giving everyone an equal chance in life. It is far better for the economy to be geared towards producing the things people actually want and need, rather than having a situation where some are wealthy enough to squander all their wealth on gambling, luxury yachts and massive estates, whilst millions sleep in the City streets every night. The Red Party will divert government resources away from expensive diversions like nuclear weapons and yet more motorways, and towards education, health and foreign aid. The Red Party is the party which addresses the real problems of our time rather than needless vote-catching policies. The Red Government will give this country the direction and purposiveness that has been squandered by years of blooming Coition misrule." "I take it you're a supporter of the Red Party?" Beta remarked. "Fully paid up and have been for as many years as I can remember!" The Actress boasted. "Does that mean you're a socialist?" I asked, chewing on a sausage from my sizeable mixed grill. "And jolly proud of it! I've been a socialist from as soon as I was old enough to tell the difference between good and evil. As far as I can see, socialism is the only real moral choice. No other ideology promises so much ethical value. It is, after all, the politics of fairness. How can one say that one person is more deserving than another - and certainly not to the flipping ridiculous extent that happens in our society. There are those who are so blooming rich than it simply boggles the mind to imagine how much wealth they have. Like that lion, Lord Arthur, whose personal wealth was greater than the Gross National Product. All that money. All those prostitutes. All that gambling. And from what I've read the lion got no great happiness from all of it. And set against him are the billions of people on this planet who haven't enough to flipping eat. Nowhere to live. Starving, freezing and suffering. It's just not flipping right!" "It does seem an awful shame," admitted Beta. "Even in the City we've seen a lot of very poor people. And the people in my Village. There are often lean months when the harvest is poor and people have so little to eat." "No wonder then that so many people from the Country come to the City where there's at least some kind of a welfare state for the unemployed. Many people declare that socialism is essentially flawed with regards to the economy. They say that a modern economy cannot be driven by fairness and justice. That it just doesn't work. What blooming nonsense! The economy is about people, not just capital. It works best when as many people as possible are able to contribute to the economy. It becomes a much more vital as well as equitable society. Critics ask how that can be done. How can an economy be run from the perspective of the worker rather than the shareholder? Well, one thing that can be done is to make everyone a shareholder. But how does it make an industry accountable to those who aren't shareholders in that industry? If the interests of one industry conflicts with that of another or of society as a whole, how can that to be reconciled? I'm no economist. I don't exactly know how it can be done, and the Red Party is bitterly divided. Some assert that all industry should be nationalised. As the people are the basis of the state then the state should own all the businesses. It sounds good in principle, but if you ever have governments like the Coition government who never had the slightest pretence of coherent policy, what would that mean for industry? It'd just stagnate like everything else. Other socialists say that the workers in a company should own that company so that they all have a stake and a say in it. This sounds good, but some industries have to make rather unpopular decisions when times are bad, and I don't know how workers would cope with making themselves redundant. If that were ever necessary. It still seems better than the way things are at the moment. The socialist focus on units of labour than units of profit must be right." The Actress paused as a fleet of pigs in police uniforms flew past the window towards the street below. She sniffed as she put a slice of lamb into her mouth. "Then there are those who contend that the argument for socialism isn't that it is morally desirable, but because socialism is a historical necessity. As the class struggle continues, the numerical majority, whose economic participation is fundamentally necessary, will eventually triumph. Capital is on the run and only by granting increasing concessions to the workers can it hope to survive. It's a neat argument, and those who maintain it make it seem as logical and scientific as physics or geometry. I don't really know. People can argue anything they like, it seems to me. If that weren't so, how could there be people who argue in favour of the Illicit Party! I don't think it matters much, though. It is the rightness or wrongness of how society is organised which should decide whether one is a socialist. Otherwise it's like arguing that one should be a flipping Christian just to avoid damnation. It's not really an argument from desirability. Rather one of taking out insurance." "Doesn't it make sense though to have a good insurance policy?" I remarked. "It might make sense, but I'd hope that I was a socialist for higher motives than that. I'd like to see a socialist society. Then we would see an inevitable and unstoppable progress towards a society where there is no longer class division, where labour is no longer set apart from capital, and ultimately a society where government itself becomes unnecessary, as its functions become absorbed at all levels into a network of consenting individuals. Many contend that our society is already like that. It is so complex and intricate that it relies on the full cooperation and participation of all its members. But the motives are wrong and it blemishes the entire enterprise. People work not from pleasure in a job well done or from the desire to bring good to others, but to earn money and have all the material goods flaunted so ostentatiously by the wealthy!" The Actress finished her meal and emptied her glass in a few rapid gulps. She glanced at her wallet, pulled out a five hundred guinea note and without a word strode across to the bar where she paid the bar steward, a lion in a smart black suit and bow-tie. She chatted with him while Beta and I sated the rest of our appetite and sipped on the strong cider. The food, drink and smoke made me feel quite light-headed. I also felt very comfortable sitting on the velvet seat next to Beta, who was pushing the last of the mashed swede onto her fork, and raised it to her mouth. I was very pleased with Beta's company and gratefully contemplated her beauty. The Actress wandered back with a broad smile. "Well, I must be on my way. I have rehearsals to attend. You don't have to come with me. Rest here as long as you like!" In truth, we were too relaxed to follow her, so we nodded at her amiably as she meandered over to the pair of elevators past the ornamental palm, the statues of Greek goddesses and a display of colourful gladioli. 17 Reaching out ahead of me, I picked up the glass of cider, lifted it to my mouth and sipped it while contemplating Beta who was clasping her glass in front of her breasts. I was indeed very fortunate to be with a woman so truly beautiful, I mused, boldly resting my arm over her bare shoulders. I was delighted that she didn't resist my approach and indeed returned the affection by placing a hand on my thigh. She gazed up at me and smiled: "It's so nice to be off the City streets. I couldn't bear to live here. It's so noisy. So polluted. And ever so busy. I can't believe we'll ever find the Truth here. We should leave the City and search elsewhere." I nodded, restoring the glass to the table. "We haven't seen anything here that even resembles the Truth," I admitted. "The City may have everything else, and it seems to have it in abundance. But you're right. The Truth must be somewhere else." Beta pointed at my nearly empty glass. "Don't hurry your drink! I like sitting here, high above the City and on these comfortable seats. It's so much more relaxing." The atmosphere was certainly that, as much a result of what we'd consumed as in anything inherent to the environment. A group of baboons excitedly debated politics opposite us. A spider monkey was leaning on the bar and talking to the bar steward: a lion dressed in a tuxedo who was cleaning the inside of a pint glass with a small towel. A group of australopithecines was playing darts in the far corner. And standing at the bar, looming high above everyone, was a very tall figure in a long green overcoat carrying a tri-cornered hat in his enormous paws. His bright button eyes scanned the bar while he waited to be served. He saw Beta and me, and broke away, still clutching the hundred guinea note he had been gesturing idly towards nobody in particular. He lumbered past the baboons, slightly brushing against an especially aggressive one who might have challenged the teddy bear had he not been so enormous. "Why hello, young man! And with a young lady. Your wife, perchance?" "No!" Disclaimed Beta snapping her hand from my lap. "We're just friends." "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made such a brash presumption. Well good afternoon, young lady. My name is Hubert. I met your friend a few days ago at the castle of a friend of mine..." "Do you mean Tudor?" Asked Beta, recalling my account of the occasion. "Yes, I've known Tudor for a long time. He's a frequent visitor to my Village. My name is Beta." She leaned forward, requiring me to reluctantly withdraw my arm from her shoulders and shook what she could of his columnar paw. "I was just buying myself a drink. I'll buy you some too, if you like. What are you having? Cider, isn't it?" Then, before either of us could protest that one pint of the potent brew was sufficiently intoxicating, he lumbered back to the bar and this time the bar steward served him quite promptly. Hubert returned followed by the lion carrying a tray of drinks which his paws were ill-equipped to manage. The lion thoughtfully fetched a particularly large sofa in which the teddy bear could sit in relative comfort, and then returned to his conversation with the spider monkey, who was rolling a cigarette on the bar surface. "So!" Remarked Hubert after imbibing a long draught of cider. "Like me, your quest has brought you to the City. Unfortunately, I am having little success in my search for relics of the Great Bard. I trust your endeavour is proceeding more profitably? Is your friend accompanying you?" "Yes, I am," Beta affirmed. "We've not been any more successful than you. We seem to do nothing but wander the streets and get horribly lost." "Isn't that always the way? The feet get very sore, but if the end is honourable then it must all be worthwhile. As they say, it is the travelling, not the arriving, which makes the journey. Yesterday, I spent many happy hours in the City Library reading the original texts the Great Bard has left. He was greatly influenced by mysticism. He attached great significance to prime numbers, like seventeen, seven and one. He believed them to be symbolic of great truths as they are irreducible but become the basis of all other numbers. Much of his poetry revels in the fundamental properties of number and what it reveals of the world. It should be remembered that in his era there was little thought or knowledge of fractal geometry, curved space or different degrees of infinity. Just imagine what he would do now with concepts like the Gödel Number, the catastrophe theory or the Mandelbrot Set. How that would have inspired him!" I sipped at the cider and allowed my arm to once again lie unresisted over Beta's shoulders. "Was it only numbers which inspired him?" She asked. "He was also excited by concepts of circularity and cyclical behaviour. He often compared life to the sine wave or the sphere. He claimed that life has no beginning nor end. One is merely the prelude to the other. He was also fascinated by such concepts as the twelve houses of the heavens and the twelve cycles within twelve of the Chinese calendar. He believed that all patterns revealed the basic meaning of life, and often modelled his poetry on exact rhythms and structures borrowed from numerology, astrology, the I Ching, the Tarot and the harmonic scale. To study the Great Bard is to learn much not normally associated with poetry." Hubert was drinking his cider very rapidly which was appropriate for such a large individual. We had barely drunk down an inch of our glasses when his was emptied. He wiped his mouth with the back of his paw. "Zounds! That was a drink I needed. Much as I enjoy being in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the City, I much prefer the Country where the air is fresh and where people have more time for company." He stood up and looked down at the City below where a wisp of smoke was still rising from the site of the recent explosion. "I shall be leaving the City tomorrow morning, but I have a number of things to do this afternoon. However, it has been charming to meet the two of you. Give my regards to Tudor should you see him." With that the teddy bear lumbered out of the bar and into the lift which was only just large enough to accommodate him and a pair of macaques shadowed by his enormous great coat. "That was certainly brief!" Remarked Beta. "But Hubert's quest must be inspiration to us." "Indeed," I agreed, squeezing Beta's shoulder and finding comfort in just sitting so close to her. We relaxed together for a while, drinking our ciders and watching the company in the bar. Not a great deal was happening. A chimpanzee had joined the spider monkey and the bar steward, and was gesticulating wildly about something that had excited him, his long arms stretched high above his head. A group of ring-tailed lemurs was playing a noisy game of dominoes in a far corner, watched by a pair of tarsiers. A television beamed soundless images of fighting and violence probably taking place in the City. A juke box was playing loud percussive electronic music, punctuated by what sounded very much like religious chants. The alcohol had a pronounced effect on my bladder as well as on my mind, and I soon felt the need to relieve myself. I drank the last of the cider, and lifted myself up. It was only when I was on my feet, I became aware of just how much I had been affected. Everything was disorientated and I was feeling distinctly unsteady. "I'll just go to the loo," I heard myself say. "I must go too," Beta said, drinking most of what she had left and wobbled uncertainly to her feet. I supported her with a hand as she nearly stumbled over a step. We made our way in the direction signposted Toilets across a floor which seemed much more extensive than when we'd arrived and through a door that led down an interminable corridor through fire door after fire door, leading to metal plaques adorned by silhouetted figures which made clear which further series of doors was intended for me and which for Beta. After relieving myself, I studied the reflection in the mirror of someone I barely recognised. It was almost a shock to see myself as others might see me, and I wasn't sure I particularly liked the sight. I blinked and shook my head in the hope that my reflection might improve, but it remained much the same. I shrugged my shoulders and stumbled out into the corridor where Beta was waiting for me. "Let's get going!" She said adamantly, pushing open a fire-door that led into a corridor which looked exactly like the one we'd come from, but I couldn't be exactly sure through the haze in my mind. Beta however pushed ahead, and I followed her past rows of fire-extinguishers and elegant portraits. "I'm sure it didn't take as long as this to get to the lavatory!" I remarked a little puzzled.
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