The Complete Roderick

‘You’ve been talking to Leo again, have you?’

‘All right yes. But for a brain floating around in a fishtank, Leo seems to make a lot of sense, sometimes. He thinks we’re just trying to cut off the Hydra’s heads; for every Entity we destroy two will grow back. Because there is some fundamental human need to build perfect copies of ourselves, to be God over somebody else… I think Leo’s got something there.’

‘Inevitability is an old argument, I’m not impressed by it. Anyway you forget that Leo does not think we are doing anything, he thinks that if someone set out to destroy Entities, they would fail. The entire world for Leo is a theoretical construct now, since he cannot sense it directly. You might say he is the Red King, and we are his dream, heh heh.’

The pipe smoke twisted and rose.

‘Wouldn’t it be funny if we were, heh heh.’

‘Heh heh. But it may interest you to know that whenever we have a vote on Entity destruction, whenever the entire board meets to vote on it, Leo gets a vote too.’

‘Does he?’

‘It may interest you to know further that he always votes in favour of destroying Entities.’

‘Does he, by God? In spite of what he says? I wonder why.’

‘An unconscious apprehension of the truth? Freud could probably explain it — unless Freud too is part of the Red King’s dream, heh heh.’

‘Heh.’

ORINOCO INSTITUTE INTERNAL MEMO

Class One Personnel

Only Memo Number 487d

This supersedes Memos 487a/b/c which are

cancelled effective this date.

Ongoing operations will be reclassified as follows:

Operation Manray..................................................................

Operation Alabam..................................................................

Operation Drood ..................................................... cancelled.

Operation Nepomuk ................................................. no change.

Operation Ladysmith ................................................ no change.

Operation Ixionize .................................................. no change.

Operation Waco (3) ................................................. no change.

Operation Whang .................................................... no change.

Operation Roderick ............................................. now Priority I.

Operation Doll Souse ............................................ now Priority I.

Operation Duckplantain ......................................... now Priority II.

Roderick arrived at eight, wearing his suit (not worn since the Auks) with a new hat. He bought a newspaper, sat clown on a car fender, and watched the box office. Now and then a cluster of animated people would pass into the Roxy theatre, all of them obviously happy because they were with each other. To sit next to someone watching shadows on the screen, that was happiness. Even if the someone only wanted to take you apart. Eight-five.

A little man with grey five-o’clock shadow and orange teeth came up to him and showed him a handful of pills. ‘How ya fixed, how ya feel? How ya fixed, how ya feel?’ he mumbled. ‘I got Isodorm, Ultracalm, Berserkopal, I got Tibipax and Nominal, I got Welldoze and Zerone, what I ain’t got I can get.’

‘Nothing, thanks.’

‘What does that mean, nothing? I can’t take nothing for an answer. I got Trancalept and Risibal, Serendex and Sedital, you name it.’

‘Beat it.’

This the man took for an answer. Eight-ten. Roderick opened his paper: a South American regime overthrown, yet another woman’s body found with the left leg cut off (‘Lucky Legs Killer Strikes again’), sales tax going up, somewhere in a small town a computer had rigged an election, Europe was in grave danger, and the time was eight-twelve.

A tired-looking man with red-rimmed eyes drifted over to ask if he had any Ultracalm or Somrepose, Zerone or Berserkopal.

‘See the man with orange teeth over there.’

At eight-fifteen two men in city maintenance uniforms arrived, showed some form at the box office, and began gluing wrapping paper over the glass theatre doors. Then they fastened shut all the doors, but one pair, with chains and padlocks. At eight-twenty-five, they left.

Roderick approached the box office. The ticket seller was a pretty adolescent girl with round rouge circles on her cheeks like clown makeup.

‘Yah?’

‘I couldn’t help noticing those men chaining up the doors. Why would they do that, with people inside?’

‘I dunno, someping to do with the city. I guess.’

‘But I thought it was illegal to have any locked doors during a movie.’

‘Yah it is. Terrible, ain’t it? And lookit the mess they made with all that paper, how are we spose to get that off the glass? I dunno.’

Roderick hesitated. You couldn’t fight city hall. There was probably some good reason for the padlocks. These city workers knew what they were doing. ‘Have you got a hairpin? Somebody showed me last night how to pick a lock. I’m going to open these padlocks.’

‘Gee I dunno.’ But she handed over the hairpin. While he was picking the locks, people kept coming up to ask him for Evenquil, Nominal, Tibipax or Equapace. It was eight-forty-five.

Stood up? Roderick was beginning to feel a resurgence of pride. Just because somebody can remove your head and stick it in a wastebasket, doesn’t mean they can keep you waiting like this for fifteen minutes. Sixteen minutes. The paper said there was a concert by the Auks at the Hippodrome. He made up his mind at once. First a quick check of the Roxy’s rear doors — in case of more padlocks — and then if she still hadn’t shown up, he would only wait another ten minutes — or so — before taking off for the Hippodrome. That would teach her to respect him as a person.

There was a long line at the Hippodrome, moving very slowly. Roderick was walking back to join the end of it when he heard:

‘Rickwood! Hiya, Rickwood, glad to see you’re on our side.’

Luke looked a little drunk.

‘Our side?’

‘The Luddites, pal. Tonight is the night, buddy. We’re gonna teach these so-called musicians to have a little respect for human beings for a change.’

‘The Auks? What do you mean?’

Luke winked, and opened his jacket to show Roderick a hammer. ‘The Auks are finished, kid, as of now. And I do mean finished, mac. No more electronic music — so-called — because no more equipment, jack.’

‘But, Luke, what the Christ is all this? You — I thought maybe you’d be out with Ida tonight. You two seemed to be getting along fine, plenty of respect for each other — what are you doing here, creeping around like some nut with a hammer—?’

‘Rickwood, you know nothing of human nature. Woman must weep, and man must smash something to pieces with a hammer. Especially if a man grew up reading Hemingway. A man does what he has to — what Mission Control tells him he has to.’

‘Luke, you poor idiotic—’

‘Anyway, I’m not alone. Join us, my friend. We have many machines to smash, then we will drink the wine.’