Plague

Nicholas looked up. 'Herbert,' he said quietly. 'You can't mean that.'

Herbert Gaines turned on his youthful lover with a set, angry face. 'Maybe I wouldn't have meant it before, but what the hell does it matter? If you preach speeches at people, they go off mindlessly and slaughter each other. If you don't preach speeches, they're so careless and stupid that they might smother themselves in their own excrement and die of disease.'

Dr. Petrie said, 'Mr. Gaines — '

Herbert Gaines waved him into silence. 'Just listen to me for a moment,' he said hotly. 'When I made those political speeches last week, I didn't believe a single word I was saying. Not one word. I stood up there and I mouthed whatever my political friends told me to mouth.

'I did it because they were threatening me — or rather, they were threatening Nicholas. I suppose you could call me a physical coward, and a moral coward as well, but I did it, and I'd like to know how many people wouldn't have done the same.

'The insane thing was that people actually paid attention to what I was saying. The television and the newspaper reporters actually took me seriously. People actually went up to Harlem and burned down stores and houses. My God, they say that people get the politicians they deserve, and they do. If I can stand up and speak poisonous crap like that, and the American people are prepared to believe me, then I can only say that they must have won this plague in some kind of celestial competition. This plague is America's prize for stupidity, crassness, arrogance, prejudice and intolerance.'

Herbert Gaines sat down. There was a long uncomfortable silence. Nicholas reached out and took Games' hand and gave it a slight, almost imperceptible squeeze. 'Okay, Mr. Gaines,' said Kenneth Garunisch at last. 'You've made your point. But what we need to talk about now is survival, not divine retribution.'

'What do we have in the way of guns?' asked Esmeralda. 'If these people do break in, we're going to need them.'

Dr. Petrie said, 'We have a rifle and two handguns. Not much ammunition. We can't rely on them for long. We have a baseball bat and plenty of kitchen knives if it comes to hand-to-hand stuff.'

Adelaide asked, 'If these people have got the plague, won't they die anyway, after a few hours? Surely if we can hold out for a day or two, they'll all be dead?'

'The girl's right,' said Garunisch, 'The only problem is, that's a pretty fierce mob out there, according to what the super says. The plague may get them before they get us, but we ought to be prepared in case things work out different.'

'I vote we go down and take a look at them,' said Esmeralda. 'At least we'll know what we're up against.'

'I second that,' said Dr. Petrie, raising his hand. Esmeralda looked across and smiled at him.

Herbert Gaines said, 'I vote we go down there and shoot them while there's still time.'

Garunisch stared at Gaines heavily. 'Mr. Gaines,' he said, 'let's just take this thing one step at a time, shall we?'

'I think Pappa would like to come.' put in Esmeralda. 'If you can wait a couple of minutes, I'll go and fetch him.'

Eventually, armed with Dr. Petrie's rifle, two automatics, and Nicholas' baseball bat, they all, with the exception of Prickles, collected at the top of the service stairs and began the long descent to the street. The power was still working, but none of them wanted to trust the elevators. Ivor Glantz, who had reluctantly left his mathematics for half-an-hour, was puffing and gasping by the time they had reached the thirteenth floor.

'Don't you worry, Professor Glantz,' said Dr. Petrie. 'The return journey is even more fun.'

'Fun my ass,' growled Glantz. 'I'll be lucky to come out of this alive.'

It took them twenty minutes to reach street level. The lobby was wide, spacious and glossy, with a veined black marble floor and walls clad in smokey mirrors. There were luxuriant potted palms, and a lingering scent of expensive perfumes.

The front doors of Concorde Tower were of thick tinted glass, and almost fifty feet wide. The initials CT were engraved in the glass in elegant Palace script. There was a set of inner doors of the same heavy glass, but they hadn't been fitted with the same security locks as the outer ones, and they probably weren't capable of holding an angry mob back for very long.

Dr. Petrie held Adelaide's arm. Outside the front-doors, pressed against the glass like distorted creatures in a gloomy vivarium, was a crowd of almost a hundred people. They screamed soundlessly at the building super and his five uniformed security men, who stood nervous but unmoving with billy-clubs in their hands. The crowd's fists pounded against the armoured windows. They were trying to break them with bricks and hammers and chunks of loose rubble, but so far they had only succeeded in cracking two of the doors, and badly scratching a third.

Kenneth Garunisch went over to Jack, the superintendent, 'How long do you think those doors can keep 'em out?'

'It's hard to tell,' said the super. He tried to keep his eyes averted from the men and women who were shrieking insults and obscenities at them from only inches away, their faces and hands squashed white and flat against the glass.

'A couple of hours? A day? How long?' prodded Garunisch.

The super shrugged. 'It depends. I've seen a few of 'em go down. I guess they got the plague out there pretty bad. But there's always more. What I'm worried about is if they find a tow-truck, and get a chain through those door-handles.'

'All right, Jack,' said Garunisch. 'If it looks like they are going to get in, don't hang around to fight 'em off. They won't be feeling very friendly towards you, so hightail it to the stairs and lock the fire door. Then keep climbing those stairs until you reach the first occupied floor — that's seven, isn't it? — and lock the fire doors all the way.'

'Okay, sir. I got you.'

Ivor Glantz came across to Dr. Petrie and touched his arm. For some reason, he was looking pale.

'Are you okay?' asked Dr. Petrie. 'You look a little sick. Is your heart all right?'

'I thought I saw someone,' whispered Ivor Glantz. 'Someone I know — out there.'

'Out there?' said Adelaide. 'Maybe it was someone who usually lives here, and they've been trying to get back in.'

Ivor Glantz shook his head. He left Dr. Petrie and Adelaide and walked towards the glass doors of Concorde Tower like a man who has seen a vision. Only a foot away from him, the silently-shrieking crowd were thumping harder and harder at the windows, and knocking chips of glass away with hammers and bricks.

Dr. Petrie was horrified and fascinated at the same time. Ivor Glantz stood there staring at the crowd, his arms hanging limply by his side, while the crowd were furiously howling and shrieking and battering at the glass.

Esmeralda suddenly said, 'Oh, my God.'

Dr. Petrie turned. 'What is it?' he asked her. 'What's wrong?'

'Oh, my God,' breathed Esmeralda. 'Just look.'

Right in the forefront of the shrieking crowd was a tall pale man with a bandage around his arm. He was staring at Ivor Glantz wild-eyed, and shaking his head from side to side in almost epileptic fear. The sight of this man had transfixed Ivor Glantz, and he seemed incapable of moving.

'It's Sergei Forward!' said Esmeralda. 'It's the Finnish man that father's been fighting in court! Oh, my God, they've got to let him in!'

Dr. Petrie took her arm, 'They can't. If they open those doors just an inch, then we won't stand a chance. They'll all get in. They'll kill us.'

'But don't you see,' said Esmeralda. 'If we let Sergei Forward in, he can help Pappa with his work! We could finish it in days instead of weeks! Pappa desperately needs help — and look, Sergei Forward could do it!'

Esmeralda ran over to her step-father, but Ivor Glantz turned away as if he hadn't even seen her. He walked unsteadily back to Dr. Petrie, and held out his hand.