The motion continued again, only the scene had subtly changed. This time the woman's hand was operating the control of a Securicare door scanner. The brute on the step appeared on the machine's small, full color screen. Without hesitation or even any noticeable change of expression, the woman reached for the hall phone, presumably to call for either help or the police. Again the picture froze.
"With Securicare, you know who's there."
Sam sighed. "I guess we don't need one of those. We don't have anything worth stealing."
The NCC logo came up on the screen. The voice over it was urgent. "Tomorrow at ten."
It was a trailer. A gang of gaunt men, clad in filthy rags and holding makeshift weapons, charged across a bare, sunlit expanse of concrete. Another set of men waited for them in a disciplined half circle. They wore tight black uniforms and visored helmets. They all cradled riot guns or held electric prods at the ready. The ragged mob halted. In the middle of them was a pneumatic blonde in a white plastic nurse's outfit. She was obviously a captive or hostage. Her arms were being forced behind her back and the front of her blouse was ripped to fully expose one breast. There was a close-up of one of the men holding her. He yelled, showing a set of yellow, broken teeth.
"You better let us through, Molloy, or the nurse gets it."
A cold voice came from behind a visor. "She knows she's been on her own since you animals grabbed her. I'm going to count to five and open fire."
There was a shot of the riot guns slowly being leveled.
"One-two-three-four."
Fade-out. The voice-over came back.
"Don't miss May Marsh in another savage episode of 'Penal Colony,' tomorrow at ten, on this channel."
The NCC logo came back again, only this time it was against a background of shifting, moving patterns of color. They were similar to the ones in the feelie adverts. Loud rock music on the polite side of tension, the kind the old folks liked, fought with a burst of almost hysterical canned applause. After a few seconds, the music won. It was joined by an enthusiastic but disembodied choir.
"Everybody's dreaming
Everybody's scheming
Everybody's got their
Wildest dreams
Maybe it's you
Baby it's you
Maybe your wildest dreams Really will come tr-u-u-e."
A heavenly staircase materialized among the swirling patterns. The choir was replaced by an equally enthusiastic voice-over.
"And now… the man who makes it happen… the man who makes dreams come true… Mister… Bob… bee…"
Sam hit the channel selector. As he flicked through the seemingly endless selection he looked regretfully at Max. "I'm sorry, cat. I can't watch those game shows anymore, not since Ralph explained how they were fixed."
BOBBY PRIEST'S VOICE HAD DROPPED to its lowest, most reverent tone. The crowd were hushed. They weren't going to mess up the moment of anticipation. The light had shrunk to harmonize with the mood. He stood alone in a single white-blue spot. The black sequins on his formal suit glittered with every slight movement.
"Well, my friends, now we come to that moment in the show where the hopes are highest and the pitfalls are deepest."
He paused to let the spurious drama of the moment sink right home.
"Waiting outside are four young people. For each one it is another moment of truth on the trail of their wildest dreams. Very soon you and I will know whether each one of them has come closer to that big prize, that lifetime contract for a feelie of their choice, or whether those dreams will have been dashed forever."
If anyone had cared, right then, to drop a pin, the whole studio would have heard it.
"Yes, my friends, it's that moment again. It's time for…" His voice lifted. "The Dreamroad!"
Right on cue the lights blazed up, the audience roared, and Wanda-Jean and her three companions bounced out into the studio. Wanda-Jean made every effort to look as happy and confident as the others. Inside, she felt like a Christian trotting out to meet the lions.
The contestants wore the usual costumes. The only change was that the numbers on them were in gold rather than red as they had been in the preliminary stages.
Wanda-Jean didn't doubt they were still made out of the material that inevitably dissolved in water.
Bobby Priest's voice rose over the shouting and cheering of the crowds in the bleachers. The contestants formed a line beside the host's raised podium. Priest turned toward them with a sweeping gesture.
"And let's meet the people who are taking a chance on the chance of a lifetime tonight."
The cameras moved in on the contestants. They all smiled just like they'd been told at the briefing.
"Wearing number one, it's the fantastic Sammy. Those of you who watched last week will remember just how truly amazing Sammy's been on the Dreamroad. If he gets through tonight he's got just two…"
He let the momentous fact sink in.
"That's right, two more shows between him and the big, big prize."
The cheering rose to an almost deafening volume. Sammy was the current blue-eyed boy of the show. He had the kind of soft sandy hair that just begged to be tousled, and his open freckled face had inspired double page pin-ups in the fan rags. Sammy ducked his head shyly and gave out a toothy grin as the camera pulled him into close-up. The subteen girls in the crowd went even wilder. Bobby Priest let them run on for a while and then raised his hands to cut it off.
"Okay, okay, that's Sammy. Next to him is Goldie. Goldie's a newcomer, but I'm sure you all remember her from the early rounds. If her luck holds, I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot more of her."
Goldie came on cute to the camera. She was blonde, petite, and came on cute to everyone, particularly Bobby Priest. Wanda-Jean reflected acidly that she might not be so cute to him once he'd had a go at her.
"Wearing number three, the girl who doesn't let anyone get in her way. That's right, it's Wanda-Jean!"
A roar went up from the crowd. At best it could only be described as jovially hostile. Wanda-Jean sneered at the camera. If they were hell bent on forcing her into this bad girl role, she might as well go along with it.
"And finally, wearing number four, another newcomer starting on the Dreamroad. Let's hear it for Marty."
Since she wasn't so familiar to the crowd, the greeting was only lukewarm. The girl had an angular body and close-cropped dark hair. Wanda-Jean had decided, the first time that she saw her, that Marty was probably a dyke.
Bobby Priest looked serious. "And now we've met the contestants, let's get down to the game."
As on every show, Wanda-Jean and the others had been given the details of the game the previous day. It was a rough one.
"In tonight's game, the contestants won't be playing against one another, they'll be playing against the clock. It's possible that we'll see all four stay on the trail, or it's just as possible that every single contestant will get knocked out!"
He put particular emphasis on the last two words. While he was talking, the players were cued to start walking toward the four clear plastic cylinders, about ten feet high, that were the focal point of the whole studio.
In the front of the cylinders were small, flush-fitting doors of the same material. The ever-present, silver-clad attendants moved in to open them. Each contestant stepped inside a cylinder. The doors were closed behind them. Bobby Priest once again took over the screen.
"The contestants are in position."
The game was a rough one. With the doors sealed, the cylinders started to fill with water. As they slowly filled, the contestants had to solve a problem. They had to rearrange a set of colored squares into a set pattern they had to guess for themselves. It was a race of mind against rising water.