The Paper Eater

LIBERTY DAY 11 A.M.

High in the upper stratosphere, Liberty’s gliding oceanographic satellite charts the subtle shifts of the artificial land-mass below, registering the pressure on the porous rockbed and the complex nuances of subterranean physics. Strange the way the light plays tricks. From the pictures reaching Head Office it almost – almost – seems as though the yolk of the fried egg itself – the inland hump of St Giddier’s Mount – were slowly and inexorably deflating. You might even think, if you scrutinised these pictures, that the waters were creeping higher, and gnawing at the coastline by St Placid. If you were a catastrophist, you might go as far as to speculate that something might be going horribly and dangerously wrong beneath the earth’s crust – and venture to wonder whether, beneath the enchanted crucible of St Giddier’s Mount, something was frighteningly amiss. Something structural.

If you were a catastrophist.

– Earth has not anything to show more fair, breathes Wesley Pike, turning his back on the satellite screen and gazing out at the glittering snake of the River Hope, its urban banks already thronging with excited shoppers. Dull would he be of soul who could pass by a sight more touching in its majesty…

Once the Boss has remedied the geo-structural glitches, the disgruntled minority in Head Office will be questionnaired and flushed out. Now that the American election is all but over, the Boss will be free to unveil her strategy for the triumphant return of normal life on Atlantica. It’s what she’s best at. The Bargain of a Lifetime promotion is probably just the start of it. It’s working already. The customers are gagging for it. Look down there: they’re forming queues!

She has turned things around a million times before. Just watch.

But something bothers Pike. Saps at his inner strength, weakening him, tempting him to think off-code and to wonder if –

A shrill buzz; the communicator on the desk before him flashes. Distractedly, still mulling over the ugly, terrifying thought, Pike switches On.

– Wesley? comes the voice. It’s me.

They’ve been on first-name terms for a while now. Wesley Pike had an inkling, way back, that this young associate had the talent and confidence of a much older man. The characteristics of a successful Liberty employee are sensitivity, perceptiveness, a hands-on approach, plenty of initiative, a capacity for lateral-thinking. An early attitude problem can be a sign of potential. Pike was right to nurture him, right to spot how the black mark on his record could be turned into a golden asterisk of promise. And sure enough, of all the officers he briefed in the People Laboratory for the Hogg project, Benedict Sommers has been the most committed, the most diligent. The most proactive too. The Hannah Park business –

Benedict’s initiative. Benedict’s idea. The Boss had processed it, and finding no flaw, had even earmarked the young man for a success reward, placing him back on the fast track where he belonged. Soon he’d be leaving Liaison behind, and be at Facilitator level.

– St Placid report, says Benedict. (Pike has missed his voice. Been looking forward.) – Thought you should be aware.

– Yes. Go ahead, son.

Son? The word flips out easily, as though he’s said it before, but he hasn’t. Affection – he’s never felt it like this before. It hatches in his head, pure silent pleasure.

– The toxicity levels – you’ll get the printouts, but well, they’re almost off the scale. And the customers are jumpy, no question.

– But?

– Well, they’re sort of happy too. There’s this sort of euphoric effect, it’s having. I guess like a wartime spirit. I mean, there’s all the panic about the Hoggs, but – well, you know. They feel sort of virtuous. (Pike smiles. The accuracy of the Munchhausens’ graphs is intensely gratifying. You can almost forget…) – And spending’s through the roof, says Benedict. (Pike can hear him chewing. He must have a word with him sometime about that wretched green gum.) – Up 25 per cent. And with the promotion coming up – well, they’re going bananas.

– And the Park business?

Outside, on the horizon, the Sea Hero comes into view, a distant block of grey.

– Oh, I was going to tell you, says Benedict. I’ve visited regularly, as planned. The mother’s happy with the sabotage story. Well, not happy of course, but… well, she’s a model customer, so…

– She hasn’t questioned it, nods Wesley Pike. He’s gazing at the ship.

From Benedict, the sound of chewing.