Doctor Who_ The Paradise of Death - Barry Letts [59]
‘There you are, you see,’ said Waldo. ‘You actually want to see their guts spilling onto the sand. What’s wrong with you all?’
‘Nobody asks them to fight. It’s their own choice,’ said Heldal.
‘You think so?’ said Waldo. ‘Bondservants promised their freedom? Lower-lower class morons bribed with a bundle of shares? Criminals threatened with the hunt?
What sort of choices are those?’
Greckle glanced round her party, which seemed to have come to a standstill. She changed her tone. ‘But, sweet little old Waldo, think of the money the Corporation makes! The last Games alone upped our dividend by nearly a quarter!’
Waldo seemed even more disgusted. ‘You think its right that the Corporation should kill people just for the sake of a bit of extra profit?’ he said.
‘That’s better. That’s a lot better,’ said Tragan. ‘Is the patrol standing by?’
‘Outside their door, Vice-Chairman.’
‘Of course it’s right,’ Heldal was growling. ‘It’s a perfect example of how the market works.’
Waldo looked as if he would explode, but Heldal bulldozed on: ‘The fighters sell their skill, the Corporation sells the show, the audience get what they want, and everybody’s better off into the bargain. What’s wrong with that?’
Waldo was now really angry. ‘I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it,’ he said. ‘It turns people into things. That’s what’s wrong with it!’
Greckle giggled nervously. ‘You’ll be telling us it’s a sin next,’ she said.
‘It is a sin!’ Waldo said passionately. ‘It’s a sin against life. It’s a sin against the spirit. The Government ought to stop it, but they’re in it up to their necks!’
‘Got him!’ said Tragan.
‘Go, go, go!’ Dogar shouted into his transmitter.
The appalled reaction at the party was violently interrupted, as the door flew open to admit four purple-uniformed patrolmen, two of whom, to Sarah’s horror, were holding hack on straining leashes the creatures (or their doubles) she had last seen on the spaceship.
The crowd fell silent, their instinctive recoil of fear stopped by the command of the patrol leader: ‘Stand still!
Everybody!’ With a snap of his fingers, he quietened the snarling beasts.
He strode to the central group, his hoots sounding a menacing echo as he crossed the empty dance floor.
‘Which is Rudley?’ he said.
Waldo stepped forward. ’I am Waldo Rudley,’ he said.
‘Waldo Rudley, you are under arrest.’
‘What? Whatever for?’
‘Gross violation of the Treason Act.’
‘This is ridiculous. I’m Captain of the Presidential Guard.’
Was there a glimmer of satisfaction as the patrol leader replied? ‘The law knows no favourites,’ he said. ‘You’ve been speaking treason. You are under arrest.’
Sarah could hold back no longer. ‘But all he said was – ’
‘Silence!’
Greckle breathed in Sarah’s ear, ‘Keep quiet, or they’ll take you too.’
As Waldo was marched away, he called back, saying,
‘Listen everybody! Things don’t have to be like this. It’s not too – ’ but his voice was stopped by a vicious blow.
As the door closed, Sarah turned to Greckle. ‘What happens now?’ she said. ‘Where do they take him?’ But Greckle behaved as if she hadn’t said a word. limning away, she called out, ‘Music please, Monty!’ and then, raising her voice over the chatter, she went on, ‘Now come on, everybody, there’s obbles of blip-juice left. I want everyone out there, drigging themselves blatt!’
The drig music started again, as insistently as before, but with a more sensual swing. in tune with the moon-brothel background. The guests started to move to the off-beat rhythm and in no time the party had thankfully resumed, as if the irritating hiatus had never occurred.
‘But we’ve got to do something!’ shouted Sarah over the din.
‘What is there to do? He asked for it and he got it,’ said Heldal.
‘But he only said – ’
Sarah was interrupted by the shrill,