for them to believe he was a loyal party member and not the resistance infiltrator who they were determined to unmask. He saw three poker faces and farted again. This time he leaned back in his seat, discretely pointed to Vera and mouthed ‘It’s her’.
Severe Party Member Two caught his eye and mouthed back ‘We know’.
CHAPTER 16
The journey to the Scientific Research Centre was completed in darkness for two reasons. One it was evening and two, he was blindfolded, which was beginning to become a habit. He travelled for about two hours and the sounds of the city became less distinct, giving him the impression that he was somewhere in the countryside on the outskirts of London. Of course, this might just have been the impression the Party had wanted to give, in which case they’d succeeded.
On arrival at this sprawling facility Dick was subjected to endless security checks, cross-checks and cross- check checks. To his great relief his biometric chip withstood all scrutiny. Eventually he was handed an identity badge and directed to a small side room. As he headed towards it Dick felt slightly calmer. He was sure that if he were going to be interrogated, he wouldn’t have undergone all these identity checks. He didn’t know what to expect in the room but was fairly sure it wasn’t going to include a bright light, electrodes or something very pointy. His hunch was correct; it was empty. After a few minutes a woman entered, the first female Party member he’d met who wasn’t unattractive, stern and officious. She was unattractive, stern and extremely officious.
Her name was Lucy and rather than administer a beating she gave him a brief tour of the facilities. If she was trying to conceal the fact that she begrudged the fact that Dick was there, she wasn’t doing a very good job about it. Any questions that Dick asked, whether about the facility or Lucy herself were met with the same degree of brusqueness or indifference. She either didn’t realise how important Dick was, given his role in finding a potential solution to the renegade harlots. Or she did, and just didn’t give a shit. Dick felt Lucy’s condescension was due to the fact he was a mere ‘civilian’, neither a Party member nor a scientist. He wanted to stop her, spin her around and shout in her face, ‘Do you know who you’re talking to?’ but he decided not to, as he wasn’t sure that the work he’d done so far justified this arrogant outburst. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d found a solution to the three biggest problems ever to face mankind: global warming, male pattern baldness or erectile dysfunction.
To be honest, the tour wasn’t that interesting. Most of the doors they walked past were marked ‘Top Secret’ and those that weren’t, were just various anonymous-looking laboratories. Dick wished he could appreciate what he was being shown, but he couldn’t. One large white sterile room with equipment in it looked just like any another. Once he’d seen one centrifuge, gas fluid analyser or dynometer then he’d seen them all. Lucy eventually showed Dick to what would be his temporary quarters. She wished him goodnight in the same way that someone would say ‘go fuck yourself’ and strode off. Dick showered and got into bed. He smiled, relieved that this location was exactly as it had been described. It was a centre for scientific research and not the interrogation centre he feared. He fell asleep thinking about success; being invited to meet the Leader, destroying the secret weapon then assassinating the ruthless despot and changing the course of history forever. Then he got bored with this notion and instead fell asleep thinking about Alice, a bunch of seedless grapes, a table tennis bat and a big tin of chocolate body paint.
Work started in earnest the next morning. Well, that’s not exactly true. Work started in earnest for the technicians and scientists involved in Dick’s solution to Project Gladstone. While most of the team were wielding screwdrivers, wrenches, pliers, spanners or studying paper read-outs and computer punch cards, all Dick could do was observe. This was the nearest he’d come in his life to a feeling of impotence and he didn’t like it. Not one single bit. He was used to being very hands-on in everything he did and here he was, looking on from the sidelines. He wasn’t even permitted to wear a starched white lab coat and this hurt his feelings even more.
Dick learned that a lot of the basic engineering and programming functions were carried out on the lower levels of the building, while the assembly and final testing of equipment was done on the eighth and ninth floors, where he was now. Most of the technicians here treated Dick with the same sort of disdain and discourtesy that Lucy had demonstrated on his arrival. On the few occasions when he was asked his views or comments, these were quietly noted. On the few occasions, when he volunteered his views or comments without being asked, these were just as quietly ignored.
He met the Chief Scientist Dr. Hargreaves, a short, stocky man, just once. He was, Dick thought, too short to be a scientist, let alone a chief one. He introduced himself in an annoying nasal voice and shook Dick’s hand in the manner of someone having to shake a turd. Dick passed comment about some of the work in progress. Dr. Hargreaves nodded, giving Dick the sort of look you’d give someone who didn’t know the first thing about incorporating a reverse polarity zener diode into a conductive armature resonance coil. As well as making Dick feel impotent, this also made him feel small. And that was something else he’d never experienced.
The Scientific Research Centre was the sort of environment that made the ten days Dick spent there feel like twenty. And those twenty feel like fifty. But even though Dick was bored, fidgety and fed up, he could see progress slowly being made.
Finally the last wire was connected, the last bolt tightened and the remaining diagnostic check carried out. It was D-day; the day of the demonstration which was set to take place in a small ground floor auditorium. Dick, Vera and Dr. Hargreaves were seated behind a large desk to one side of the stage. In front of them were two plain velvet curtains suspended from a sturdy metal framework and near to these was a fake brick wall. The setting had obviously piqued the curiosity of the various scientists and Party members in the audience who consulted notes, murmured, or did both. Dick felt a painful twinge in his upper leg and winced. It was Vera gripping his thigh. She turned and leaned towards him, forcing him back with her voluminous bosom.
‘Are you nervous Jeremy?’, she whispered.
‘A little’, Dick replied looking around at the audience which seemed, en masse, to be studying him.
‘So am I’, Vera admitted in the same low voice. ‘And when I get nervous I have to squeeze something tightly. It helps me relax’.
With that, she gripped his leg with more force than Dick could imagine was possible from anything other than a hydraulic press. Dick flinched and decided that he also wanted to squeeze something tightly; the part of Vera’s body that connected her body to her head. Vera indicated the various high-ranking Party members in the audience but the names meant nothing to Dick. He had hoped the Leader would be there in person but Vera explained that he made few personal appearances, relying instead on reports from various subordinates who were sitting here expectantly, waiting for the demonstration to begin. Dick took the hand-written speech out of his pocket, holding it tightly in his nervous fingers, re-reading it for the eighth time. The speech thanked the audience for attending and the team for their hard work. It then went on to explain the various problems in trying to find a solution for Project Gladstone, giving the audience a broad outline on the demonstration they were about to see. It was, Dick felt, a very inspiring speech and one that had taken a long time to compose.
Dick was reading it for the ninth time when Dr. Hargreaves stood up to energetic applause. As this died down he began the proceedings by thanking the audience for attending, and for his own team’s hard work. He explained the various problems in trying to find a solution for Project Gladstone and then introduced Vera. Vera stood up and gave the audience a broad outline of the demonstration they were about to see. She then introduced Dick who realised that everything he was about to say had just been said. He looked around the auditorium and opened his mouth. No sounds came out so he closed it. He then repeated the motion a couple of times. To the audience Dick looked less like Jeremy Brunel, the man who had devised the brilliant solution to Project Gladstone, and more like Jeremy Brunel the Great Goldfish Impersonator. Feeling the sheer weight of expectation on his shoulders, all he could do in the circumstances was to shrug them.
The only thing Dick could think of saying was the very matter-of-fact and not very inspiring, ‘Could we raise curtain number one?’.
On cue a junior technician at the side of the stage turned a switch. A mechanical winch slowly raised the first curtain number until it revealed a life-sized mannequin dressed as a prostitute, which is to say that it was attractive, displaying an excess of make-up, stockinged-leg and cleavage.
‘Ladies and gentlemen’, Dick explained. ‘A prostitute, with which you will all be familiar’.
Half the audience gasped. Dick couldn’t make out what the other half were saying as they were all talking at
