Sister Ships and Alastair - Chapter 19

19. Take Thou Two Of Every Animal

There were heart warming messages on every corridor wall. Some said BELIEVE THOU ON THE LORD JESUS CHRIST THY SAVIOUR. Some said more practical things such as GOD BLESS THIS URINE RECYCLING UNIT, accompanied by little hand-drawn angels and flowers. One, on a high voltage cabinet, said JESUS IS COMIN! GET THEM WIRES HUMMIN! And many, many said BUILD THOU AN ARK! AND TAKE TWO OF EVERY ANIMAL.

Among these signs were other ones that appeared to have been put up more recently. Many said WELCOME TO NEW SALEM JESUS LOVES YOU MA'AM. Some, interestingly, said GO HOME TO LUCIFER DEVIL WOMAN. Ant saw groups of workers hurriedly taking these latter signs down.

The lift had gone down a long way. The air down here was suffocating, like the furnace heat of Ant's grandmother's old people's home, and there was a constant whine of motors.

"That's the dehumidifiers", said a Salemite mechanic who had been standing in the lift with them. "We're over two kilometres underground. Stuff gets mighty hot and steamy. You folks are welcome to use our entertainment suite while we hammer your ship into shape. Just follow me."

A country and western singer was yodelling over the intercom. Every now and again he repeated a yodel.

"That's vinyl", said Ant. "That's a vinyl record. It's repeating because it's scratched. Haven't you people ever heard of MP3?"

The mechanic shrugged as they entered a mess area where rows of Salemites were eating at long cafeteria tables. "Don't know much about them new Earth bands. We like your English Cliff Richard." He clicked his fingers as he moved into a food queue. "CARRIE DOESN'T LIVE HERE - ANY MORE - CARRIE HAD THE ROOM ON THE SECOND FLOOR -"

In the one and only display cabinet of the cafeteria, Ant was intrigued to see a squat purple pat identifying itself as a GONDOLIN LICHEN CAKE sitting on a shelf labelled EXOTIC GOURMET FOODS OF THE FREE WORLDS. Knowing that suicides had happened on Gondolin due to the unavailability of anything that wasn't Gondolin Lichen Cake, Ant passed on the cake. The rest of the food was unsettlingly single-minded. PROCESSED BEEF MEAT LOAF, PROCESSED BEEF CONCENTRATE, PROCESSED BEEF SOUP, and ominously, PROCESSED BEEF SPONGE PUDDING.

"You sure do like your processed beef here", said Ant.

"We're famed for it", said the lady at the counter icily.

"The Torstrom Process for Cow Reduction was perfected locally", said the mechanic. "Folks is real proud of it."

"Gosh", said Ant. "What does it use to reduce the cows?"

"Knives, principally", said the mechanic. "Lotsa rotatin knives. Jesus keep you, they don't hurt none, they're already stone dead."

Cleo went pale.

"I take it", she said, "you don't have vegetarians on New Salem."

"Sure do", said the mechanic. "They go in the cow reducer. That's because they're cows", he added hastily.

The mess area was hung with bunting saying WELCOME CANDIDATES. Ant noticed that a podium had been set up at one end of the room, decorated with zodiac wheels and rosettes. Some of the rosettes bore purple flying fish logos and read ALL THINGS TO ALL PEOPLE. Others bore grey bird logos, and read MEASURE TWICE, CUT ONCE. The far end of the canteen was closed off with a black, heavily patched curtain. Thick electrical cables snaked under the curtain to something unidentified behind it.

Cleo held up a five pound note to the canteen cashier. "Erm. Do you take real money? With the queen's head on?"

The cashier took the note and unfolded it, inspecting it not as if she were checking for watermarks, but as if she were being allowed to handle a First Edition of the Bible.

"Earth scrip", she breathed. "That'll do fine, young lady. What would you like?"

Cleo pointed at a large doughnut that had been communicating telepathically with her for some minutes now, insisting that she buy and eat it.

The cashier turned and ran her finger along a handwritten chart on the wall until she found GREAT BRITISH POUNDS. Next to that was written GREEN, GOT THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND'S HEAD ON. ONE POUND = ONE THOUSAND CRUSZ.

"Do you got something smaller?" she said. "The exchange rate's mighty high."

"Why so high?" said Ant.

"A lot of what we need out here we got to get on Earth", said the cashier lady. "Bought using Earth paper money on the black market and smuggled out."

"I've got a twenty", said Ant. "Pence, that is."

"That'll do fine", said the lady. "You want your change?"

"Keep the change", said Ant. "Buy yourself something."

The lady glowed with satisfaction. Ant was, evidently, the last of the big spenders.

The unidentified lovesick cowboy was still yodelling through the tannoy speakers. Such was the quality of the recording that he sounded as if he were yodelling underwater.

"Oh my god", said Cleo. "This is Slim Whitman. Ant, this is Slim Whitman. Human beings are actually listening to Slim Whitman."

"What yis thyis sound?" said Vladlena. "Yis thyat poor myan in pyain?"

Then she realized.

"Oh my Gyod", she said. "Yis Slyim Whyitman."

"It's the music of the spheres", said the mechanic in satisfaction. Vladlena wagged a finger at him angrily. "You are way out of dyate, Dyaddio. And Clyiff Ryichard hyave make many, many recordyings syince Cyarrie is not Lyiving Here Yany More. Yis Wyired for Syound, yis Scyi-Fyi, yis Myistletoe and Wyine -"

"Millennium Prayer", said Ant with a shudder.

"- Wyired for Sound have also yincluded yexcellent roller dyisco video fyilmed in futuristic myetropolis of Myilton Keynes", said Vladlena.

Ant looked at Cleo.

"We live", said Ant, "fourteen miles from Milton Keynes."

Vladlena's eyes made an attempt to escape from her head.

"Yis like in video?" she said. "Yeveryone wyith hyelmet and hyeadphones and on roller skyates?"

"Skateboards, usually", said Ant. "Often with quite inadequate knee protection."

"Why do you live two kilometres underground?" said Cleo to the mechanic.

The mechanic gratefully accepted a plate of pink minced slop from a pathologically smiling waitress. "Got to be ready for the Big One. The Big One'll hit some day. New Salem's got so many cometary impact craters the top layer of our soil's just plain comet, miss. Our solar system's got two stars orbiting one another, and when those stars drag through each other's Oort clouds, they pull out two or three thousand comets every time." He pointed to a sign on the cafeteria wall: WELCOME TO NEW SALEM. IT SNOWS BIG HERE.

"What's an Oort Cloud?" said Ant.

The mechanic seemed surprised Ant didn't know. "Well, bless me if it ain't a big cloud of comets round a sun. I'm Jethro, by the way. Like in the Bible."

"I'm Cleopatra", said Cleo. "Like in the Shakespeare."

"I'm Ant", said Ant. "Like in the hill."

"Uh", said Glenn Bob. "I'm Glenn Bob, and there ain't no Glenn Bob in the Bible far as I know, unless it's in that there Apocrypha, or the Begetting Section..."

"I think good Christians probably call that section Genesis Chapter Five", said Jethro crisply.

"This here's Vladlena", said Glenn Bob miserably.

"Yis tyerrible nyame", said Vladlena. "Yis Communist nyame from VLADyimir Ilyich LENyin." She searched her pockets irritably. "You have cyigarette here some place?"

"Why, no", said Jethro. "We don't allow little girls to smoke cigarettes here, young lady, no matter how pretty they are. Cigarettes are horrible things. They cause lung cancer and heart attacks. We call them Satan sticks."

Vladlena looked set to do cruel murder on Jethro and boil him down for his nicotine content. However, she was interrupted from doing so by a tinny orchestral fanfare from the tannoy speakers.

"NEW SALEM, PLEASE WELCOME THE US ZED'S PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATES FOR THE YEAR OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST SAVIOUR OF MANKIND TWO THOUSAND!"

As one colonist, everyone in the cafeteria stood up and applauded, smiling brightly. Cleo turned to see a wedge of people entering the cafeteria - at its head were two smiling, waving people wearing campaign rosettes. On the left came a slightly built, high-browed man in glasses, wearing a threadbare tweed jacket with elbow patches, looking happy but uncomfortable at all the attention. On the right came a tall, energetic, strikingly beautiful Latina woman, dressed in a tailored business suit, grinning with a mouthful of teeth and waving as if she were swatting locusts. The majority of the wedge behind the candidates were actually behind her - big men in what looked like USZ military uniform, towering over the diners on either side, looking down on them sternly, daring them to breathe out of turn. They were so obviously bodyguards that no advertisement of the fact was necessary.

The female candidate bounded up to the microphone in high heels - a feat of dexterity Cleo envied more than any ability to fly a starfighter - and yelled unnecessarily into the microphone: "HELLO GOD'S OWN COUNTRY!!!"

The crowd continued to applaud, but politely; they were nice people, and some other nice people from offworld had come to visit them. The female candidate had evidently expected the crowd to go wild at the mention of god, but this was not a wild crowd. She recovered well, though, and raised her hands to call for calm.

"THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU, I'M ELIZABETH ORTEGA. YOU KNOW HOW TO GIVE A BACKWOODS GIRL A BIG CITY WELCOME."

"Big City?" whispered Ant in Glenn Bob's ear. "We are in a concrete burrow two kilometres underground where these people are hiding from their own solar system."

"I ALWAYS LIKE TO COME OUT NEW SALEM NORTHSIDE WAY. MATTER OF FACT, I THINK IT'S MY FAVOURITE TOWN! AND DON'T THINK I DON'T HAVE YOUR INTERESTS TO HEART! IMPENDING COMETARY IMPACT AND DIVINELY ORDAINED ARK BUILDING ARE HIGH ON MY AGENDA. I CAN FAITHFULLY PROMISE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU THAT IF AN ARK CONTAINING TWO OF EVERY SPECIES IS WHAT THIS PLANET NEEDS, AN ARK IS WHAT AN ORTEGA ADMINISTRATION WILL DELIVER."

There was more polite applause. The audience were still smiling.

"I MAKE NO SECRET OF THE FACT", said the candidate, "THAT I INTEND TO BE THE US ZEE'S FIRST FEMALE PRESIDENT. I DO NOT INTEND TO GO DOWN THE PATH OF TWO-PARTY POLITICS, AS MY POLITICAL OPPONENTS HAVE DONE! LET US NOT SAY, WE CANNOT DO THIS, IT'S TOO LEFT WING, OR LET'S NOT DO THAT, IT MAKES US SOUND EVEN WORSE THAN THE OPPOSITION. LET US STRIKE OUT ALONG A BOLD NEW MIDDLE WAY! IF THERE IS A CENTRE LINE TO THE STREET, LET US DRIVE ALONG IT! IF THERE IS A FENCE, LET US SIT ON IT! THE GRASS IS GREENER ON BOTH SIDES! I ALSO INTEND TO MAKE COMMUNISM ILLEGAL, CHRISTIAN PRAYER COMPULSORY IN OUR PUBLIC SCHOOLS, AND THE STORY OF GOD'S BEAUTIFUL CREATION PART OF OUR SCIENTIFIC EDUCATION CURRICULUM!"

At the mention of these last three points, the clapping grew considerably louder. One man - shock-haired, with pebble lens glasses and a nose marred by an enormous wart - rose to his feet and applauded until his face was redder.

"DANG YOU TO HECK AND THE HORSE YOU RODE IN ON!" yelled a voice suddenly from the back of the crowd.

The room went silent. Candidate Ortega's eyes searched the crowd. The heckler was easy to identify, as all his friends and neighbours were glaring at him in a circle.

"What?" he said. "I don't like her, is all. She's just a big mouth on long legs, don't know squat about nothin."

Candidate Ortega broke into a smile big enough to show her wisdom teeth.

"I'D LIKE TO CONTINUE TO ASSURE NEW SALEM", she said, "THAT NOT ONLY WILL WE SEE IF WE CAN FIND OUR WAY TO ALLOCATING FUTURE FUNDS FOR A POTENTIAL GIANT SPACE ARK, WE'LL ALSO CONTINUE TO FUND NEW SALEM'S MILITARY FLEET. I'M THINKING PARTICULARLY OF THE US ZEE ESS URIEL, WHICH IS VERY POPULAR HEREABOUTS. THERE ARE FOLKS IN THE US ZEE SENATE WHO SAY THE URIEL'S TOO EXPENSIVE, THAT THE NEW SALEM SYSTEM ISN'T ECONOMICAL TO DEFEND, BEING SO CLOSE TO A MAJOR SOVIET SYSTEM. I'D LIKE TO SAY THAT NEW SALEM IS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE SYSTEMS, THAT IT MUST BE PROTECTED, AND OF COURSE, THAT'S THE CASE, BECAUSE YOU'RE ALL GOING TO VOTE FOR YOUR AUNT ELIZABETH ON ELECTION DAY, AIN'TCHA?"

Voices began whispering round the canteen tables.

"What the heck was that?"

"Was that a threat?"

"Can she say that?"

Next to Ant, Jethro, earlier so affable, was sitting quiet as a grave. Ant leaned closer to him. "What's the US Zed Ess Uriel?"

"An early warning vessel", said Jethro, his eyes fixed coldly on the podium. "Basically a deep space frigate with a big old radar that looks in all directions. Thing is, while she's stationed here, she can look for comets as well as space ships. If Uriel wasn't here, we wouldn't know what flying ice was about to hit us."

Glenn Bob frowned. "I don't understand. Did the Candidate just threaten to take away your early impact warning system or not?"

"Bless her", said Jethro, through gritted teeth, "I'm sure the nice lady didn't mean that. I'm sure I misheard."

Candidate Ortega was winding up her speech now. "- AND IN ACCORDANCE WITH OUR FINE TRADITIONS OF DEMOCRATIC GOVERNANCE IN THE US ZEE, I'D LIKE TO BE FAIR TO THE OTHER GUY! I AM PLEASED TO INTRODUCE YOU TO MY OPPOSITION CANDIDATE! HE'S GONNA LOSE, SO BE NICE TO HIM AND GIVE HIM A BIG HAND! PLEASE WELCOME DOCTOR RANDOLPH LEFKOWITZ! RANDY, COME THE HECK ON UP HERE!"

The audience's applause for Doctor Lefkowitz was just as polite and just as loud; they were still in a good mood. Lefkowitz smiled apologetically as he mounted the podium, looking down at a sheaf of papers he was shuffling rather than at the crowd.

"Good afternoon", he said - and then, turning to Elizabeth Ortega, "ah, it is afternoon here now, isn't it?"

Ortega turned to the crowd and made a face. A rustle of laughter ran through the room. Lefkowitz even laughed along with it.

"Um - well, I can't say this is my favourite system, because, well, as the president, I wouldn't be allowed to have favourites, haha. And of course I sympathize with your strong Christian faith. I can't say I'm of the faith myself, I'm afraid, but I've always believed we all have a duty to behave morally, without needing to rely on fear of God to make us. Uh, I'm afraid I've had a look at the Ark plans submitted by your leadership for transferring your entire colony to another more suitable star before the 'Big One' hits...I'm afraid the simple truth is that the US Zee won't have enough shipbuilding capacity for a project of this size for a number of years. The kindest thing to do is say no to it up front. Maybe in a few years' time.

"My manifesto pledges are simple. Prudent financial governance. In delivering this, I will be able to draw on my doctorates in economics, law, and sociology, which qualify me well to understand the issues involved. I will not tax and spend. I will not promise what we, with our limited resources, cannot promise to deliver. I will maintain a fit-for-purpose infrastructure. I will prevent a gap developing between rich and poor. I will maintain educational standards in our schools. I will maintain freedom of expression, freedom of trade between member worlds, and freedom of religion -"

"WOULD THAT BE FREEDOM OF ANY RELIGION?" said Ortega from behind the podium, looking idly towards heaven. Even without the microphone, her voice was louder than Lefkowitz's.

Lefkowitz turned toward her, blinking wide-eyed. "I beg your pardon?"

"WELL...YOU KNOW...JUDAISM, OR MOHAMMEDANISM, OR CATHOLICISM..." said Ortega innocently.

"Well...of course", said Lefkowitz, as if failing to understand the question. The cafeteria crowd began to mutter like lowing cattle.

"WHAT ABOUT THEM FOLKS AT THE SOUTH POLE?" yelled a voice.

There was a general agreeing murmur. Them folks at the South Pole were not popular.

"I will be visiting them later on today", said Doctor Lefkowitz. "I will be explaining to them that the US Zee cannot spare ships to take missionaries from the South Pole of New Salem to Nineveh. I will also be explaining that, whilst Nineveh was a large city in the Bible, today it is a heap of stones in a desert inhabited only by archaeologists. Furthermore, if missionaries from New Salem travelled to Earth, this would give away the Secret that colonies exist out here in the stars and put all our lives in danger."

A fist rose in the crowd. The owner of the fist went 'WHOOP, WHOOP, WHOOP'.

Behind Doctor Lefkowitz, a smiling man whose smile looked as fixed as Mister Potato Head's had stepped on to the podium. Wringing his hands and painstakingly making himself shorter than both Doctor Lefkowitz and Elizabeth Ortega, he edged in beside Doctor Lefkowitz at the microphone.

"- WELL, THAT'S SOME VERY INTERESTING INFORMATION THERE FROM TWO VERY WONDERFUL CANDIDATES WHO I'M SURE DESERVE A GOOD SOLID ROUND OF APPLAUSE." The audience rose to their feet and clapped obligingly, still smiling politely. "I'D LIKE TO ASSURE BOTH CANDIDATES THAT THE NEW SALEM ADMINISTRATION STANDS READY TO ASSIST WHICHEVER OF THEM IS SUCCESSFUL IN WHATEVER CAPACITY THE WINNING CANDIDATE SEES FIT. I'M ED JERKOW, MAYOR OF NEW SALEM NORTHSIDE, DUE FOR RE-ELECTION BY YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE IN TWO MONTHS' TIME, I APPRECIATE YOUR VOTES, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I REALLY DO. NOW IF YOU'LL EXCUSE US, THE CANDIDATES ARE TIRED AND HAVE A LOT OF FOLKS TO SEE -"

"THEY'RE GOING TO SEE THEM SOUTHSIDERS", came an accusing voice from the back of the crowd.

"NOW JUST HANG ON THERE ONE MINUTE, LUKE MCKENZIE, YOU KNOW AS WELL AS I DO THEY'VE GOT NO CHOICE BUT TO GO SEE THE SOUTHSIDERS, THEY HAVE TO TREAT EVERY CITIZEN THE SAME. AND GOD KNOWS THE SOUTHSIDERS SMELL BAD AND GOT HAIR ON THE PALMS OF THEIR HANDS THERE, SO LET'S GIVE THE CANDIDATES ANOTHER BIG HAND FOR BEING PREPARED TO ENGAGE IN THE DEMOCRATIC PROCESS WITH SUCH INHUMAN MONSTERS."

For this, Mayor Jerkow got a standing ovation.

"Did we sound like that on New Dixie?" muttered Glenn Bob to Cleo.

"Worse", said Cleo. "You had guns."

Glenn Bob shook his head. "I am truly, truly sorry."

"Oh, don't take Ed the wrong way there", said Jethro, who they had forgotten was standing right behind them. "He's only foolin."

"Does his electorate know he's foolin?" said Glenn Bob.

"Pretty much. Bless you, the Southsiders only went southside ten years back. We can hardly really think they're inhuman monsters if we're related to half of 'em. Why, the Mayor of Southside is Ed Jerkow's brother."

Up behind the podium, one of Elizabeth Ortega's bodyguards was whispering in her ear, and she was looking in the direction of Ant, Cleo, Glenn Bob and Vladlena. Ant saw Candidate Ortega's eyes light up.

"Something really bad", said Ant, "is about to happen."

Candidate Ortega paced toward the podium like a high-heeled velociraptor. Shoving her head in between the microphone and Ed Jerkow's face, she pointed across the room at Cleo and Vladlena and shrieked:

"EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME, BUT I'VE JUST BEEN MADE AWARE WE HAVE TWO YOUNG PEOPLE HERE WHO ARE FAR MORE WORTHY OF A BIG HAND THAN I AM! A COUPLE OF DAYS AGO, A US ZEE DESTROYER CARRIED OUT A DARING RESCUE OF THIS YOUNG LADY FROM A RUSSIAN PRISON PLANET, ABETTED BY THIS YOUNG LADY FROM EARTH! GET THEM UP HERE, GUYS! LET'S GIVE THEM A BIG NEW SALEM HELLO!"

Cleo and Vladlena were taken by the elbow and steered up to the podium. There was more good-natured applause. Cleo still had half the doughnut in her mouth, and ersatz strawberryoid jam smeared round her lips. One of her hands was taken by Candidate Ortega and hoisted aloft, along with one of Vladlena's.

"THE TWO YOUNG LADIES PROVE THAT IT IS POSSIBLE FOR A WOMAN TO SURVIVE IN A MAN'S UNIVERSE! THIS YOUNG LADY" - she jerked on Cleo's arm like a puppeteer - "WAS IMPRISONED IN A RUSSIAN GOOLARG FOR HER POLITICAL BELIEFS! BUT DID SHE GIVE UP? NO SHE DID NOT! SHE CONSTRUCTED HER OWN SAMIZDAT RADIO AND SHE CONTACTED THE US ZEE! AND A US ZEE DESTROYER HEARD HER CALL, AND THIS YOUNG LADY HERE -" she jerked on Vladlena's arm - "HIJACKED A US AEROSPACE NAVY WARSHIP AND CONVINCED ITS CAPTAIN TO ASSIST IN THE ESCAPE!" She turned to Cleo. "DO YOU GOT ANYTHING TO SAY TO THE GOOD FOLKS OF NEW SALEM, YOUNG LADY?" She looked out at the audience again and added into the microphone in a stage whisper: "Please be patient with our young Soviette, English is not her first language."

"Erm", said Cleo into the microphone. "That's basically true, with a few minor details. Jervis Bay is a Revere class cruiser, not a destroyer, for instance -"

Hastily, Ortega interposed herself. "DOESN'T SHE SPEAK ENGLISH WELL! GIVE HER A BIG HAND, LADIES AND GENTS!"

The cafeteria crowd, who by this time were probably getting clapper's wrist, nevertheless applauded gamely.

"I AM ALSO RECEIVING REPORTS", said Candidate Ortega, "THAT A HEROIC LIEUTENANT OF THE ZODIAC NAVY PARTICULARLY DISTINGUISHED HERSELF IN THE ACTION! ALL GIRLS, LADIES AND GENTS! ALL GIRLS, JUST AS GOOD AS THE MEN THEY SERVE WITH! AND JUST AS FEARLESS -"

There was a faraway deep bass rumble, like a distant subway train. Small flakes of paint and plaster shook off the walls. Despite the ongoing speech, the cafeteria fell silent. Everyone looked round the walls, eyes trying vainly to search through concrete.

Nothing more happened. Sighs of relief were breathed. Little hand-held seismometers came out of pockets.

"Early Warning didn't catch that one."

"Must have been a full hundred kilotonnes of T.N.T. equivalent."

"About one hundred kilometres away nor-by-northeast."

"Dayside, then."

One of the audience looked back up at Candidate Ortega, who was standing stock still, the colour drained from her cheeks.

"Just a cometary impact, ma'am. Mr. Lefkowitz can carry on telling us why we can't afford an Ark now."

A murmur of laughter ran round the chamber. Ortega's face forced itself back into a winning smile.

"Uh - IF I AM ELECTED PRESIDENT, MY FIRST ACTION WILL BE TO PROMOTE THE GALLANT LIEUTENANT INVOLVED IN THE ACTION AT KRASNAYA AND AWARD HER AND THESE YOUNG LADIES THE TIN STAR, FIRST CLASS, THE HIGHEST AWARD FOR GALLANTRY PRESENTED BY OUR NATION!"

Ant was watching open-mouthed.

"Heroic young Lieutenant", he said. "Singular."

"Aw, come on", said Glenn Bob. "Lootenant Turpin didn't do nothin besides sneak into that high security complex on Earth there, arrange for us to read Black Prince's comms, pilot the Fantasm to rescue Lootenant Farthing and them other guys, and shoot down that bad guy at the end -"

He paused briefly, as if re-examining what he'd just said.

"Hey", he said. "Hey, that ain't fair. Lootenant Turpin needs hisself a tin star too." He thought on things further. "And hey, I need one myself. Second class, maybe. And so do you."

"I suspect we're the wrong sex right now", said Ant, his jaw locked hard. "I had hoped people like Candidate Ortega didn't exist up here. Obviously I was wrong."

"I thought she made a bunch of good points", said Glenn Bob - and then, seeing Ant's furious glare, added: "But her basic argumentative premise is flawed from first principles there, o' course."

"I INTEND TO EMULATE THESE HEROIC LADIES! I AM GOING TO THE PRESIDENCY! AND I WILL SHOW THE CITIZENS OF THE US ZEE THAT A WOMAN'S PLACE IS IN THE HOT SEAT!"

There was a final, rapturous standing ovation. After a few false positives, the crowd had sensed the end of the speech, and were giving it their all. Candidate Ortega withdrew from the podium, punching the air optimistically.

The cafeteria crowd returned to their food.

"Thank all heck for that", said one of them.

"Lord save me, I thought they'd never go", said another. "We only got another twenty minutes till the start of third shift. Are you going to eat that hydro kelp pattie, or can I?"

***

Cleo rejoined Ant and Glenn Bob at their canteen table.

"I'm going to get the Tin Star, Second Class", she said excitedly. She looked at Ant and Glenn Bob's thunderous expressions. "What? What's wrong?"

"You can't have failed to notice that that speech was rubbish from start to finish", said Ant.

Cleo shrugged nervously. "Well, it had its bad points, but a TIN STAR! A STAR! On ME! Made of TIN!"

"Second Class", said Ant, and spooned up a mouthful of Processed Beef Iced Dessert. Cleo watched Ant gamely attempting to chew and swallow. Her good humour evaporated.

Eventually, she said:

"Okay. I see what's happening. This is jealousy."

Ant exploded. He nearly spat out his iced dessert in shock. "JEALOUSY! I am SO not jealous!"

"Maybe a little bit?" suggested Glenn Bob.

"NOT ONE IOTA! I have NO NEED FOR A STAR, TIN OR OTHERWISE! She's USING you, Cleo! Using you to get votes!"

"Ant", said Cleo, "I was on Black Prince, in the heart of the enemy, under threat of death the whole time. I was even sort of tortured."

"I KNOW!" said Ant. "You're INCREDIBLY BRAVE! That's WHY I LIKE YOU! But you're being exploited! Elizabeth Ortega couldn't even tell you from Vladlena!"

Cleo rose from the table frostily.

"I can tell", she said, "when I'm not wanted."

"Oh, Christ", said Ant, covering his face with his hands. Behind him on an adjoining table, one of the diners turned round.

"I'd appreciate it, young man", said the diner, "if you wouldn't make light with that name. It's a name that's very dear to me."

"Golly gee willickers", said Ant.

"That's better", said the diner, and returned to his Processed Beef Surprise. He didn't seem surprised at any point while he was eating it.