Wicca

by James Follett

  The librarian was delighted. `It's lucky indeed that we're now open for sensible hours, Mr Malone -- six days a week -- the way public libraries always used to be. Something I insisted we go back to. Luckily, the old library's reference section was very strong on the subjects likely to be of interest to you. The books are all in order on the shelves but not yet indexed. It will take many weeks. We're so short of staff.'

  Malone assured him that he would manage and that he would put reference books back on the shelves in their correct locations rather than burden the staff. `That's very good of you, Mr Malone. I'm sure I can trust you.'

  `Police work if anyone wants to know what I'm doing, Mr Davies. My colleagues don't understand my interests. A hard-drinking lot but one needs to keep one's mind occupied these days without television.'

  Dennis was understanding. There was a sudden burst of hammering. `I'm afraid the library won't be a conducive place for study for another two to three weeks. I could arrange for you to have a small desk in the far corner... And I've got some screens...'

  Malone was profuse in his thanks.

  `When would you like to start?'

  `Now, if possible. I've a couple of hours before I'm on duty.'

  Malone spent the first thirty minutes familiarizing himself with the library's layout. He was returning a book on Celtic customs to the shelf when he became aware of a tall brunette looking through the computer books. She sensed his interest and looked up suddenly before he had a chance to look away. He smiled and nodded. Malone was not used to cold, hard stares from women. It unsettled him, particularly because he had a vague feeling that he had seen her before. Her wedding ring and engagement ring hadn't been bought from QVC, and silk blouses like that weren't available south of the Thames. When she left he drifted over to Dennis' desk.

  `Who was the tall brunette that was in here just now?'

  `Ah -- that was Miss Vanessa Grossman. 4th floor. She's the town clerk's deputy. Married, I think.'

  The name meant nothing to Malone. `Just wondered. I'm sure I've seen her face before somewhere.'

  `Strange you should say that, Mr Malone,' said Dennis. `But I thought exactly the same when I first saw her.'

  Chapter 12

  `HANDS OFF THE WALL! Hands off the Wall!'

  A noisy, bustling hot evening in Market Square. A line of blackshirts kept the chanting crowd away from the main entrance of Government House. There were additional units of morris police on hand in case the mob got out of hand but the crowd of about 40 did no more than chant in unison and wave their placards.

  Well organized and well rehearsed, thought Malone from his usual table outside the Crown, a glass of beer and a clipboard in front of him. The brew was excellent and there seemed little danger of it running out because barrels of the stuff were being unloaded from a dray. He had never seen new barrels before. A clever invention; one man could roll several times his own weight and change direction with ease. And they were stable and safe when stacked on end. The waiter served a family at a nearby table: beers for the parents, soft drinks for the children. His idea to scrap bars and have waiter service only at tables in pubs and clubs was working well. Families went out together and under-age drinking was no longer a problem.

  Anne Taylor pushed her way through the bystanders with Vikki and Sarah in tow. She bullied her reluctant charges into unfurling a banner made from a sheet and holding it aloft. They stayed with a small group of demonstrators in the middle of the square who seemed anxious to keep clear of the main mob in case of trouble. Her group included several older citizens whose placards endorsed the sentiment expressed in Anne Taylor's embroidered message:

  THE NEW LIFE IS THE GOOD LIFE! LEAVE THE WALL ALONE!

  They were the genuine protesters, thought Malone, returning Anne's wave. It was understandable that many elderly people liked the new order with its simplification of what was becoming an over-complicated society. And there were many who approved the strict enforcement of law and order. But the Wall, with its enforced separation from loved ones was the cause of much pain. After nearly four months it seemed that Anne Taylor had decided that life without her husband wasn't so bad. But for Malone, who had not seen his daughters since a school concert in March, the separation was a continuous, nagging ache made worse by the dreadful thought that they might not exist anymore -- that the whole world had ceased to exist and that Pentworth had become a surviving microcosm of what had been a planet with its teeming billions. Perhaps Pentworth had been allowed to survive as some sort of celestial zoo.

  Bob Harding's view was more upbeat. In several question and answer talks on the radio, he had pushed his view that the real world was still there. The chances were that the army had surrounded the Wall on the outside and created an exclusion zone. Malone was not convinced; his gut feeling was that the real world no longer existed.

  The clatter of a gig drawn by a pair of greys intruded on his depressing reverie. It dropped off two of Prescott's farm hands who joined the chanting mob. Malone noted their names on his clipboard. St Mary's struck seven which was the signal for the council meeting to start.

  Chapter 13.

  DR MILLICENT VAUGHAN WAS an iron-haired, iron-willed lady of 54 who had been the head of the largest general practitioners' group in Pentworth. She was now in charge of the reopened cottage hospital and had overall responsibility for health in the community. Her tough stance on food hygiene and her army of food inspectors backed up by morris police had won her enemies. A farmer who had persistently flouted the strict animal feeding regulations had had his farm confiscated.

  David Weir did his best to listen attentively to her delivering her report to the council but the racket outside the courtroom-cum-council chamber was a distraction and so was Ellen. She looked particularly lovely. She had restyled her hair, bringing it forward so that her rich, dark tresses partially hid her face to give her a sultry, seductive look that suited her admirably.

  Millicent concluded with: `To summarise, the general health of the population has actually shown a marked improvement since the Wall was established. Pure drinking water, good sanitation, and wholesome food are still our best defences against epidemics.'

  `Thank you, Dr Vaughan,' said Prescott expansively, feeling very pleased with himself. At the beginning of the meeting he had comfortably overturned a censure motion by Ellen Duncan for his treatment of Brad Jackson and his gang. His tough stance on law and order had wide support. He had also pushed through an enabling measure that empowered the council to introduce revoked or repealed legislation if it were in the interests of the community, and he had also persuaded a majority to accept the setting up of a proper radio studio in Government House -- a measure Prescott had been particularly keen to push through, arguing that the relocation would release a telephone line and provide a more suitable, more professional environment than Bob Harding's workshop.

  Prescott looked around the gathering at the long table that was always set up in the courtroom for council meetings. `I take it then that the revised food rationing allowances are not having adverse effects on health?'

  `We seem to have the balance about right, Mr Chairman,' Millicent replied. `I've been checking in the library. Compared with the Second World War, the allowances are quite generous although, as we know, they're causing some irritation in the town towards the farming community.'

  That was an understatement. The initial resentment among the town-dwellers towards the food producers was widening to open antagonism as the new controls filtered through; in a small community, their effects were felt quickly.

  It was early summer -- an awkward time before main crops were ready and when livestock was being fattened for the winter rather than slaughtered. The problem was compounded by the need to restrict the cropping of early vegetables to provide the following year's seed stock. The healthiest potatoes were going into storage. The food glut of earlier in the year when surplus livestock had been slaughtered to conserve feed was long past although there was stil
l plenty of EU grain. Grain that had shown signs of deterioration had been sent to the brewery. Milk supplies had been curtailed to make butter in the absence of sunflower oil supplies for the manufacture of margarine. The heat was making it impossible to keep semi-skimmed milk for more than a day, and delays in the supply of ammonia had prevented the new ice-making plant getting into full production. Some early attempts to salt beef and pork for long term storage had gone wrong and over 200 tonnes of food was ordered to be destroyed by the hygiene inspectors. The relearning of the old skills in food storage was proving a painful process, and too many problems were piling up for Pentworth's tiny working population to tackle efficiently.

  Some food was plentiful: the Pentworth House bakery with its methane-fired ovens had been expanded to cope with all the community's bread needs, but essential measures taken by the council's food sub-committee had led to a scarcity of meat, poultry and diary produce with the result that town-dwellers suspected that farmers and growers were withholding supplies. Conversely, the country believed that the town was getting the lion's share of the services. Most houses in the town were now back on a pumped water supply from the old water tower whereas many outlying areas still relied on standpipes or neighbours with boreholes. The previous day there had been an incident in which a wagon delivering lambs to the abattoir had been waylaid by a town gang. The lambs had vanished and the wagon driver beaten-up.

  `I should have fifty tonne of sugar beet ready next week,' commented a grower.

  `The low sugar diet has actually been beneficial,' said Millicent. `The dental care team have reported that the condition of children's teeth is improving. Just to round up, we have not encountered any cases of vitamin deficiency in adults or children. We now have a small unit producing broad spectrum antibiotic cultures which is barely sufficient for our immediate needs but we're coping. Councillor Duncan's contribution of effective herbal medications has been inestimable. Thank you.'

  `Hands off the Wall! Hands off the Wall!'

  `Points arising?' inquired Prescott.

  `Yes,' said Ellen promptly. She nodded to the blackshirts guarding the exit. There were several of the stone-faced security men around the courtroom. `Any chance of you asking your blackshirt thugs to knock off the row outside?'

  `Peaceful demonstrations are a part of the democratic process,' said Prescott genially. `I'm sorry if you find that inconvenient--'

  `I find it inconvenient not being able to hear.'

  `And they are not thugs, councillor. Nor are they my mine, and they are not blackshirts. But they will see what they can do.' Prescott nodded to one of the guards who left the chamber. `Councillor Baldock?'

  `You said that there have been 10 births since the Wall,' said Dan Baldock, a prickly pig farmer who heartily detested Prescott. `Is that above or below average?'

  `Below average,' said Millicent.

  `How many pregnancies started since the Wall?' asked Prescott.

  `Six that we know of.'

  Ellen looked surprised. `Six? Isn't that low? Point one of one percent of the population?'

  `We're don't have a full year to go on as yet,' said Millicent uneasily.

  `Okay, then. So double your figure. That's still damned low.'

  `But it's too early to draw conclusions. There are normal peaks and troughs in any given period.' `How many deaths since the Wall?' asked David Weir.

  `22,' Millicent replied. `Five due to accidents and 17 due to illness or natural causes.'

  `So the population is going down?' Ellen queried.

  `It's too early to see a trend,' Millicent replied.

  `Well I can. 22 dead. 10 born. That's a trend.'

  Millicent lowered her voice when the chanting from the square quietened. `You have to take social factors into account. There was little employment before the Wall and high house prices which led to an exodus of young couples to Chichester and Portsmouth.'

  `In other words, we don't have enough breeding pairs,' said Baldock bluntly. He grinned. `I don't mind becoming a third partner in a breeding trio. Or even in a quartet.'

  `Three mother-in-laws, Dan?' queried a councillor. `You can't even get on with one.' He added when the laughter subsided, `But you'd think, that with all this fine weather and young girls going around wearing next to nothing, that there would be an explosion of pregnancies.'

  `Conception rates tend to decrease in the face of uncertainty,' Bob Harding commented thickly through his hayfever.

  `The death rate will go down,' said Millicent. `The overall health of the community is good. At least four of the 22 deaths since the Wall were due to smoking-related causes. We won't be seeing much of that in the future.'

  `Quite a few people I know are growing tobacco,' said Baldock smugly. `And other substances.'

  `And we could have an epidemic that could wipe us all out.' Harding observed. `It's an important issue but idle speculation. Doctor Vaughan is right. There's little point in debating this, Mr Chairman -- we have insufficient data to spot trends.'

  Prescott nodded. `It would be sensible to ask Dr Vaughan's Pentworth Health Authority to keep a watching brief on the situation and report back. Is that okay with you, doctor?'

  `We're doing that anyway, Mr Chairman.'

  `Next item,' said Prescott. `Councillor Harding's proposal to breach the Wall.'

  Harding needed only five minutes to fill in missing details in his plan. `As for wasting petrol,' he said, `we won't be using that much, and we might was well use it as have it evaporating away.'

  `Such a move might be regarded as a hostile act by the visitors,' a councillor ventured when Harding had finished. `They could retaliate.'

  Ellen snorted. `And what about their act in putting the Wall in place? Wasn't that a hostile act? If they are that advanced, then it behoved them to determine what affect on the populace their actions might have. They didn't do so, therefore we have the right to at least try to breach the Wall if it's possible.'

  Outside the chanting of crowd become louder and more aggressive.

  `Hands off the Wall! Hands off the Wall!'

  After ten minutes heated discussion, with the sounds outside degenerating into a near-riot as the protesters tried to break through the morris police cordon, Prescott said that he was considering vetoing the plan.

  Ellen went on the attack. `On what grounds, Mr Chairman?'

  Prescott was smoothly confident. `On the grounds that the safety and well-being of Pentworth and its people are paramount. Who knows what weaponry the visitors have in their Silent Vulcan? The thought of the terrible retaliation that they could use against us doesn't bear thinking about.'

  `Nor does the thought of doing nothing!'

  There were nods of assent around the table.

  `Listen to them outside,' said Prescott. `They actually like the Wall. As a democratic body, we should heed the voice of the people. Go against them and all hell could break loose. What chance do thirty morris police stand against the majority?'

  `It's now nearer fifty morris police,' David muttered.

  While Prescott was talking, Ellen slipped her hand under her hair. Her fingertips found the slide switch on the tiny flesh-coloured hearing aid transceiver that Malone had given her. Before the meeting she practiced switching the radio on and off and therefore had no difficulty sliding the switch to the "on" position. The miniature set's microphone was held in position by a hair slide.

  `Voice of the people, Mr Chairman? A majority? Or do you mean a mob that been put together to sound like a majority?'

  `You have ears, councillor.'

  `So have I,' Malone's voice whispered in Ellen's ear. `Getting you loud and clear. Give a cough to acknowledge.'

  Ellen coughed. `Ah... You mean your estate manager and his family, Mr Chairman? They're a majority, are they?' she paused. `Then there's Harry Coleman, your gamekeeper and his two sons... They seem to be yelling the loudest. Of course, they're being helped by Harry Coleman's sister, her husband and their two boys. Matt, the eldes
t works for you, does he not?' Another pause. Ellen had every everyone's attention. Prescott made no attempt to interrupt but sat smiling benignly at Ellen.

  She continued, `And there's Rupert Mates who also works for you. A one-man mob in his own right, that one.' She went on to recite details of the rest of the mob. She spoke clearly and succinctly, using effective pauses to count off all of the names on her fingers and detailing their association with Asquith Prescott. By the time she had finished, he was no longer smiling but regarding Ellen, stony-faced.

  `There are genuine protesters out there,' Ellen continued. `Eight to be exact. None of them creating any fuss. But every one of that yelling mob depends on our chairman either directly or indirectly. The noise outside is not the voice of the people. It is the baying of a rentamob hired by our chairman because he fears that if an assault on the Wall succeeds, it would be the end of his power.' She was about to add that power was the one thing Prescott craved above all else but decided that she had said enough.

  David was the first speak when Ellen sat. `I think, Mr Chairman, that we should take a vote on whether or not to sanction the assault.'

  Prescott gave a dismissive gesture. `If you care to ignore my concern for the well-being of our community, then so be it... In view of Councillor Duncan's comments, I would add that I've never made any secret of my concerns and have expressed them on many occasions to my friends and colleagues. That many agree with me and have turned up to express their views is hardly surprising and I'm astonished that Councillor Duncan has read so much into it. I could ask her to withdraw her remarks but fear that I'd be wasting your time and my time. Very well -- let's vote. All those in favour?'

  Prescott lost by three votes. He smiled blandly in defeat, saying that that was the way of democracy -- that sometimes the elected representatives of the people went against the wishes of the people. Inwardly he was seething because the setback meant that he would be forced into doing another deal with Adrian Roscoe and his Bodian Brethren.