“Possibly a bit before your time. They were already on their way out when radio began nationwide hookups and the programs began to offer consistent entertainment to the masses. We still had a remnant of the soap box orators in the 1930s but short of a few exceptions such as Boston Common and Hyde Park in London, they disappeared by the middle of this century. They are open air speakers who talk to their audiences from improvised stands. In the old days, when large numbers of our people strolled the streets of a pleasant spring or summer evening, these speakers were able to attract and hold their audiences.”
“Well, what did they talk about?” Ed scowled.
“Anything and everything. Some were religious cranks. Some had things to sell such as patent medicine. Some were radicals, Socialists, Communists, I.W.W.S, that sort of thing. This was their opportunity to reach the people with whatever their message might be.”
Ed said, “Well, so what? Let them talk. It’ll give the people something to do, especially until you get the circuses, carnivals and vaudeville going again.”
Braithgale said, “Don’t lay too much store by live entertainment, Wonder. Only a limited number of persons can watch a live performance. Vaudeville becomes meaningless if you are too far from the stage, so does legitimate theatre or a circus. Perhaps it was that which bankrupted Rome. They had to build ever more arenas so that their whole population could crowd into them. They simply couldn’t keep that many shows going.”
“But what’s wrong with these soap box orators?”
Braithgale said, “Mr. Wonder, with the coming of cinema, radio, and finally, capping it all, television, the voice of dissent faded from the land. Minority parties and other malcontents could not afford the high costs of utilizing these media themselves. They were thrown back on distributing leaflets, pamphlets and little magazines or weekly newspapers. And, of course, we know how few people actually read anything necessitating concentrated thought. Even those of us who do read are presented daily with so much material that we are highly selective. In pure self-defense, we must look at the title or headline of the reading material offered us, and make a quick decision. Few in the minority groups have the skills or the resources to present their material in the attractive manner in which the more oppulent publishers do. It boils down to the fact that the beliefs of the dissenters against our affluent society have not been reaching the people.”
It was beginning to get through to Ed Wonder.
Hopkins finished the story. “But now, every night, there are tens of thousands of belligerent amateur orators standing on our street corners, harranging people with nothing else to do but listen, people desperate for something to do.”
“You mean these, ah, soap box orators are organized? They’ve got some kind of definite bug that…”
Hopkins held up a thin hand. “No. No, not yet. But that is just a matter of time. Sooner or later one of them will come up with an idea that appeals to the mob. He’ll attract followers, other street corner harrangers. The condition of the country being the way it is now, almost any really popular idea would sweep in like wildfire. A new religion. More likely a new political theory, however far right or left.”
“Oh,” Ed said. He could understand the workings of politician Dwight Hopkins’ mind now. The administration had definite irons in the fire. Tubber’s efforts might threaten the political climate. However, Ed still didn’t see where he came in.
They weren’t long in enlightening him.
Hopkins said, “Mr. Wonder, time is running out on us. We must have some action. It will be necessary to contact this Ezekiel Joshua Tubber.”
“I think it’s a good idea. Go ahead. Maybe you can appeal to his patriotism, or something. No, come to think of it, patriotism is out. He thinks the country is being run by a bunch of idiots. He’s against the welfare state.”
“Little Ed,” Hopkins said smoothly, “I am afraid that it is going to have to be you who sees Tubber. I can think of no one else to whom we can entrust the assignment.”
“Oh, no you don’t. Listen, why not send a few of the F.B.I. boys? Or maybe the C.I.A. They’re used to trouble. I hate it.”
Hopkins was at his most persuasive. “If Tubber is at the root of our troubles, sending police officers of any description could well prove disastrous. If he is not, then it could only make us look foolish. No, you are the one. He knows you, his daughter is evidently attracted to you.”
“But you need me to handle my department, Project Tubber,” Ed said desperately.
“Mr. De Kemp can handle matters until your return.”
“I’m expendable, huh?” Ed said bitterly.
“If you must put it in that manner, yes,” Hopkins told him.
“Well, you’re just going to have to get another patsy. I’m afraid to get within miles of that old kook,” Ed Wonder told them definitely.
They had given him a highly detailed map of the Catskill area in which was located Elysium. It wasn’t too far from the Ashokan reservoir, nor from the once artist colony of Woodstock.
Ed passed through that town, on to Bearsville and beyond to a hamlet called Shady. From there a dirt side road led off some miles to the community of Elysium. There were a couple of signs along the way. Ed Wonder had never had the little Volkshover over a dirt road before. However, beyond churning up quite a screen of dust left behind, there seemed no special effect.
He passed a small cottage, laid back from the road. Perhaps cabin would be the better term. There was an extensive garden of both flowers and vegetables around it. Ed Wonder drove on, passing another, somewhat similar abode, though not an exact duplicate. In the back of his mind he identified the places as summer houses; someone who wanted to get away from it all, get back to nature during the warm months. The idea didn’t exactly appeal to him, although, come to think of it, there were desirable aspects to this sort of…
Then it came to him as another cottage appeared to the left.
This was Elysium.
There were little side roads going off in this direction and that. Obviously, to other habitations.
His face twisted. People lived here all year around ? Stuck off here away from, well, from civilization?
It came to him that there were neither TV nor radio antennas. Nor, for that matter, telephone wires. It came to him, as a shock, that there couldn’t under the circumstances be any community distribution center. These people must actually cook their own food.
He let the Volkshover settle to the ground so that he could consider other aspects. Three of the cottages were in view now. And there wasn’t a hovercar in sight, aside from his own.
“You’d go batty,” he muttered.
There were some youngsters in a grove off a way, playing in the trees. They were scampering around the branches like a tribe of monkeys. Ed Wonder’s first response was to wonder why their parents were allowing them to risk their necks so obviously. Say what you wanted to against TV but at least it kept the kids off the streets and out of dangerous play. A kid could get himself in some risky situations if allowed to horse around as these were. Then something else came to him. Perhaps children should be exposed to a certain degree of danger in their play. Perhaps a broken arm or so, while going through the process of growing up, came under the head of education and had value in the way of experience.
He was going to go over to the youngsters to ask directions, but then, in the distance, saw someone he recognized. He dropped the lift lever and at slow speed proceeded in her direction. It was one of Tubber’s followers. One of the women who had acted as receptionist at the tent entrance there in Kingsburg, the first night Ed and Helen had come afoul of Ezekiel Joshua Tubber.