Marvelous-and deeply frightening. He turned to see if he could get back and out.
He could not. The mob pressed closer, packed itself tighter. A horrifying vision of thousands of mouthing faces surrounded him. He panicked momentarily and then suppressed his panic. It could not help him. Little could.
The Fireclown's voice bellowed for silence, swore at the mob, reviled it.
Abashed, the crowd quieted.
"You see! You see! This is what you do. So the City Council is to close off the levels. Perhaps it is because of me, perhaps it isn't! But does it matter?"
Certain elements shouted that it did matter.
"What kind of threat am I to the City Council? What threat am I to anyone? I tell you-none!"
Alan was mystified by these words, just as the mob was.
"None! I want no part of your demonstrations, your petty fears and puny conflicts! I do not expect action from you. I do not want action. I want you only to become aware! You can change your mental attitude. Study the words you are using today. Study them and you will find them meaningless. You have emotions-you have words. But the words you have do not describe your emotions.
Try to think of words that will! Then you will be strong. Then you will have no need for your stupid, overvaunted so-called 'intelligence.' Then you will have no need to march against the Council Building!"
Alan himself sought for words to describe the Fireclown's state at that moment.
What had been said had impressed him in spite of his decision to observe as objectively as possible. They meant nothing much, really. They had been said before. But they hinted at something-gave him a clue…
Noble bewilderment. The elephant attacked by small boys. And yet concerned for them. Alan was impressed by what he felt to be the Fireclown's intrinsic innocence. But such an innocence, it could topple the world! Placards now began to appear in the crowd: NO TO BURYING THE FIRECLOWN! HANDS OFF THE LOWER LEVELS!
COUNCIL CAN'T QUENCH THE FIRE OF MAN! Amused by the ludicrous messages, Alan made out others. SONS OF THE SUN REJECT COUNCIL PLAN! was, perhaps, the best.
His mind began to skip, taking in first a fragmented scene-faces, placards, turbulent movement, a woman's ecstatic face; then a clipping of sound, a sudden idea that he could easily follow the Fireclown if he could hear the man convince him in cooler, more intellectual phrases; the flaring gash of light that quickly bubbled from the tiny sun and then seemed to be drawn back into it.
"Fools! " The Fireclown was shouting, incredulity and anger mixed on his painted face.
It seemed to Alan that the paint had been stripped away and, for the first time, he became aware of the man who stood there. An individual, complex and enigmatic.
But the glimpse did not last, for he felt the pressure from behind decreasing.
At least half the mob had turned away and were surging towards the cavern's exit.
And the Fireclown? Alan looked up. The Fireclown was appealing to them to stay, but his words were drowned by the babble of hysteria.
Now Alan was borne back with the crowd, was forced to turn and move with it or risk being trampled. He looked up at the dais and saw that the fat body of the Fireclown had developed a slump that hardly seemed in keeping with his earlier vitality.
As the mob boiled up to the third level, Alan saw Helen Curtis only a few yards ahead of him and to his left. He kept her in sight and managed, gradually, to inch through the stabbing elbows and hard shoulders.
On the ninth level he was just able to get into the same elevator with her. He shouted over the heads of the others: "Helen! What the hell are you doing here?"
He saw a placard, FIRECLOWN FIRST VICTIM OF DICTATORSHIP, bob up and down and realized she was holding it.
"Do you think this will win you votes?" he demanded.
She made no reply but smiled at him. "I'm glad to see you came. Are you with us?"
"No, I'm not. And I don't think the Fireclown is either! He doesn't want you to fight for his 'rights'-I’m sure he's perfectly able to look after himself!"
"It's the principle!"
"Rubbish!"
The doors of the giant elevator slid up and they crossed the corridor to the row of elevators opposite. The liveried attendants attempted to hold the crowd away but were pushed back into their own elevators by the force of the rush. He managed to catch up with her and stood with his body tight against her side, unable to shift his position.
"This sort of thing may win you immediate popularity with the rabble, but what are the responsible voters going to think?"
"I’m fighting for what I think right," she said defiantly, grimly.
"You're fighting…" He shook his head. "Look, when we reach Sixty-Five make your way home. Speak for the Fireclown in the Solar House if you must, but don't make a fool of yourself. When this.hysteria dies down you'll look ridiculous."
"So you think this is going to die down?" she said sweetly.
The doors opened, the elevators disgorged their contents and they were on the move again, streaming across the quiet gardens towards the distant Civic Buildings.
It was night. The sky beyond the dome was dark. The crowd exhibited a moment's nervous and calm, its pace slowed and then, as Helen shouted: "There! That's where they are!" and flung her hand theatrically towards the Council Building, they moved on again, spreading out and running.
Laservid cameramen and still-photographers were waiting for them, taking pictures as they surged past.
Helen began to run awkwardly, her placard waving in her hands.
Let her go, Alan thought, old emotions returning to heighten his confusion. He turned back.
No! She mustn't do it! He hated her political ambitions, but they meant much to her. She could throw everything away with this ill-considered action of hers.
Or would she? Perhaps the day of ordered government was already over. - "Helen!" He ran after her, tripped and fell heavily on a bed of trampled blue roses, got up. "Helen!"
He couldn't see her. Ahead of the crowd lights were going on in the Civic Buildings. Fortuitously, and perhaps happily for the City Council-all of whom had private apartments in the Council Building-the headquarters of the City Police were only a block away. And that building was lit up also.
He hoped the police would use restraint in dealing with the crowd.
When he finally saw Helen again she was leading the van of the mob who now chanted the unoriginal phrase: "We want the Council!"
Unarmed policemen in their blue smocks and broad belts began to muscle their way through the crowd. Laservid cameras tracked them.
Alan grasped Helen's arm, trying to make himself heard above the chant. "Helen!
For God's sake get out-you're liable to be arrested. The police are here!"
"So what?" Her face was flushed, her eyes over-bright, her voice high.
He reached up and tore the placard from her hands, flinging it to the ground. "I don't want to see you ruined!"
She stood there, her body taut with anger, staring into his face. "You always were jealous of my political success P' "Can't you see what's happening to you? If you must play follow-my-leader, do it in a more orderly way. You could be President soon."
"And I still will be. Go away!"
He shook her shoulders. "Open your eyes! Open your eyes!"
"Oh, don't be so melodramatic. Leave me alone. My eyes are wide open!"
But he could see she had softened slightly, perhaps simply because of the interest he was taking in her.
Then a voice blared: "Go back to your homes! If you have any complaints, lodge them in the proper manner. The Council provides facilities for hearing complaints. This demonstration will get you nowhere! The police are authorized to stop anyone attempting to enter the Council Building!"
Helen listened until the broadcast finished. Then she shouted: "Don't let them put you off! They'll do nothing until they see we mean business."