The podium came to a halt.
‘The Chair recognizes … ah …’
Dino Mudstrap consulted his seating plan.
‘… Miss A.A. Catto.’
A.A. Catto took a deep breath.
‘I propose the motion that the L-4 dwellings, and all the stasis territory beyond the perimeter walls of the citadel, be declared insanitary and firestormed forthwith.’
Dino Mudstrap’s bushy eyebrows shot up.
‘Firestormed, Miss Catto? For what reason?’
‘For no particular reason except that the destruction of the L-4s would provide an excellent diversion. It would be fun.’
‘Fun, Miss Catto?’
‘Fun, Mister Chairman.’
Dino Mudstrap stroked his bald head.
‘I see.’
He paused, and peered round the meeting.
‘Does anyone second this … ah … unusual motion?’
Valdo was on his feet.
‘I do, Mister Chairman.’
Again he consulted his seating plan.
‘The motion is seconded by Valdo Catto. Does any member care to speak against it?’
In the front rank of the Ferics, the ancient Melissa creaked to her feet.
‘It would seem, Mister Chairman, that the proposal to destroy, en masse, these potentially useful life forms would be in direct opposition to our long-established traditions of frugality and conservation.’
Melissa Feric had long been famous for her sentimentality,
‘I must therefore seriously warn this meeting against sanctioning any such action.’
She resumed her seat. The ever-practical Nolan Catto, A.A, Catto’s grandfather, was immediately on his feet.
‘While not sharing the venerable Miss Feric’s humanitarian considerations, I must also call on this meeting to reject the motion. You will all recall, no doubt, that in the case of the accidental firestorm that consumed the periphery of Akio-Tech, there was a period when the citadel itself was endangered.
A.A. Catto pouted.
‘They put it out in time.’
The chairman banged his gavel.
‘You are out of order, Miss Catto. Pray continue, sir.’
Nolan Catto glanced at his granddaughter.
‘While appreciating our young people’s need for spectacle, I do feel that such a drastic display would, to say the least, be foolhardy.’
The next to rise was Havard Glick. Heads turned to look at him. Havard Glick was notorious for his eccentric ideas.
‘It might have escaped Miss Catto’s knowledge that there are some who hold the belief that even the L-4s are possessed of human sensibilities, and the morality of their wholesale slaughter would be somewhat questionable.’
There was a ripple of laughter. The old man was obviously senile. Everyone knew that the L-4s were the descendants of rejects from Con-Lee DNA research and that Con-Lee could dispose of them in whatever way they pleased. Nobody else seemed eager to speak after Havard Glick, and the chairman returned to A.A. Catto.
‘Do you have anything else to say, Miss Catto?’
A.A. Catto jumped to her feet.
‘Indeed I do, Mister Chairman. My grandfather’s sentiments are typical of the decay that will one day destroy this citadel. Don’t firestorm the L-4s, he whimpers, it might endanger us. Leave these insanitary organisms to scuttle round the outside of our beautiful towers. My grandfather would have our citadel overrun by vermin rather than risk the purging flames.’
Her voice rose in high patriotism.
‘It is the voices of cowards and traitors that plead for this rabble. The five families created the L-4s to serve, and when they no longer serve, it is the duty of the five families to destroy them. The fire cannot harm a citadel. It didn’t at Akio-Tech and it won’t here. I say to you one more time, we must firestorm the L-4s.’
The chairman, who had appeared to doze off during A.A. Catto’s speech, opened his eyes.
‘I thought you said earlier that you wanted to firestorm the L-4s for fun.’
‘Yes, Mister Chairman. And because it’s my sacred duty.’
The chairman nodded.
‘Yes, I see.’
He looked round at the directorate.
‘Shall we vote?’
Nolan Catto was on his feet.
‘May I propose a compromise? It might be a very good idea to instruct the entertainment Execs to prepare video simulation of a firestorm. It might do a little to satisfy these young people’s need for spectacle.’
A.A. Catto dug her nails into her palms.
‘You patronizing bastard.’
The chairman glared at her.
‘Shall we vote? First for Miss Catto’s motion, and secondly for Mister Catto’s compromise. Vote on the first one, please.’
A.A. Catto stabbed at her yes button.
‘And now the second.’
She pressed the no button. The chairman consulted his results.
‘Miss Catto’s motion is rejected. Mister Catto’s compromise is carried.’
‘Damn you old fools.’
A.A. Catto stood up and stalked out of the boardroom. Valdo followed a little way behind. Outside in the corridor, Valdo caught hold of her wrist as she was about to step on to the moving walkway.
‘Have you forgotten our bargain, sister dear?’
‘Bargain?’
‘You promised to let me take you home and ill-treat you if I found this meeting loathsome and boring.’
‘Did I agree to that?’
‘Indeed you did.’
‘But surely you didn’t take me seriously?’
‘I must admit, sister, that I took it very seriously. So seriously that I filed a tape of our conversation with Audit-12, the steward of wagers. He found it perfectly acceptable.’
‘You little beast.’
‘I thought I should get some fun out of what promised to be a very boring morning.’
A.A. Catto glared at her brother.
‘I positively forbid you to lay a hand on me.’
‘I was going to use a whip. I have one that would be eminently suitable.’
‘I won’t let you.’
Valdo smiled at her. He looked like a vulture.
‘You’ll have to.’
‘Why?’
‘Because otherwise Audit will compel you to under the term of a family wager.’
‘Let them try.’
‘If they make you, it’ll be in public.’
‘Public?’
‘Delinquent wagers are always collected in front of vid-cameras. It goes out like on channel 79. I’m sure all our friends will watch, and of course, the tape will be available in the library.’
‘You’re an unpleasant little weasel,’
Valdo beamed.
‘It runs in the family. Are you ready to come?’
A.A. Catto pursed her lips.
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
Valdo helped her on to the walkway.
‘I think the hour will be sufficient.’
***
Like Burt the Medicine predicted, it took less than two days to cross the desert. It gave way to rolling grasslands, and the track that Billy and Reave had been following became a surfaced highway. Then other roads connected with it, and soon Billy and Reave were driving through tidy, cultivated farms. They passed other traffic on the road, square, upright, boxlike vehicles painted black or brown and driven by noisy impulse motors. The people inside looked sombre, dour folk. They dressed in black or grey and stared in amazement at Billy’s and Reave’s flamboyant buggy.
They passed more and more of the sedate, austere cars. The farms became increasingly built on, and then they passed a sign that read:
Port Judas Welcomes the Clean Living.
Reave grinned at Billy.
‘Think we qualify?’
Billy grinned back.
‘I don’t know about you, man.’
They drove into the town, past rows and rows of small stone houses with white picket fences and neat little gardens. Billy grimaced.
‘It doesn’t look too much like fun city.’