Aurorarama - Jean-Christophe Valtat [136]
It was the first time since the foundation of New Venice that armed troops had been allowed to march through its streets, as a way to celebrate their bravery and, also, to dispel any doubts as to “the harmonious relationship that existed between the City and its loyal defenders.” This exceptional measure, perhaps not quite faithful to the principles of the Seven Sleepers, had been, the newspaper insisted, “fully justified by the equally exceptional extent of the threat the city had been under.”
The Council of Seven had nevertheless demanded strengthened security measures for the parade itself, in the event that “misguided members of the native minorities” wrongly interpret this military presence as a provocation directed toward them, and, God forbid, a disguised form of martial law. It would be a shame if these local independentists “put at risk by some irresponsible behaviour during the parade the majority of their famously peace-loving community.”
It was therefore ordered by the Council that, in the wee hours of the morning before the parade took place, and under the benevolent protection of the Gentlemen of the Night, all the Native inhabitants of the city were to meet at the newly completed Inuit People’s Ice Palace, in order to remain safely there during the time of the celebration.
The day had not yet broken over New Venice when all the local Eskimo families—about five hundred people carrying the few pieces of luggage they had been allowed to take with them—were already lined up in front of the Ice Palace, being admitted as soon as their names were ticked off the list by the efficient guardians of the Northwestern Administration for Native Affairs. Those who had been oblivious of the order or, with typical Eskimo slackness regarding punctuality, a little too slow to comply, had been collected directly at their homes by the ever devoted Guardian Angels, with the assistance of Angels of the Law, so as to avoid any ambiguity regarding the legality of the process.
Mr. Peterswarden, the director of the new facility, reiterated to journalists his satisfaction that it was “the Inuit themselves who were the first to take advantage and, in a sense, possession, of a place that respected the values of their ancient and noble culture, and which, after all, had been built with their comfort in mind.”
Meanwhile, a small group of anarchists from the Blithedale Brotherhood, who had started a protest march on the Midway against a measure that seemed to them a bit discriminatory, were being dispersed, politely but firmly, by the Gentlemen of the Night. The protestors were then collected by ambulances to make sure they had not been molested, and would not be heard of again during the following hours. The parade could now take place under the most favourable conditions.
Barely had the sun risen, its pale slanting rays emerging from behind the roofs, than a large crowd, which had been given New Venetian flags, was flocking along Barents Boulevard, Ladies’ Mile, and Bears’ Bridge. The weather was rather chilly, but, as the Arctic Illustrated News had remarked, “there is nothing like waving a flag to warm up one’s spirits.”
A dais and viewing stands had been erected on Barents Boulevard under the aerial tunnel of the Pneumatic Train, and it was a measure of the