Tunnels 05 - Spiral

Pearson said. “For down here, we have only each other. We are one big society, and we look after our own.”
    With great ceremony, he turned to the Governors on his left, and then those on his right. All ten officials were saying, “Hear, hear,” with great emphasis, and nodding like a row of drunken monkeys to show their agreement.
    Mr. Pearson addressed the crowd again. “We have all been in the same boat. In recent months, we have all known the turbulent waters. . . . We’ve been hungry, confused, and frightened by the inexplicable changes taking place in our lives. But never you fear, the Board is here to reinstate law and order.” He paused, as if expecting a cheer from the crowd, but the only reaction was stony silence.
    He cleared his throat, then went on. “Our first act will be to find an open portal, so deliveries of Topsoil food supplements are resumed forthwith. But, just as importantly, the production of our staple foods — those foods on which we rely so heavily — will also be restored. Livestock breeding and rodent collection are a priority, and as I speak, the penny bun fields in the North are being prepared for sporing, and —”
    “Ain’t seen you doin’ no diggin’,” a Colonist said loudly.
    “Yeah, roll yer sleeves up yerself, Pearson,” a second added.
    Mr. Pearson ran a finger inside his starched collar and ignored the hecklers as he tried to continue. But in the depths of the crowd, a Colonist coughed at some volume. Although it wasn’t a real cough.
    The man had ducked his head and shouted the word
gazunder
.
    The crowd tittered.
    All but a few citizens of the Colony had dispensed with the rather archaic practice of using a gazunder, or chamber pot — the porcelain bowl kept under the bed into which they could relieve themselves during the night if the need took them. Instead they would make the effort to go downstairs to the water closet, usually to be found at the back of the house.
    But not Mr. Pearson.
    And, being one of the privileged class, Mr. Pearson was too high and mighty to swill out his own urine in the mornings. Because of his high standing, he’d always had a servant — normally a captured Topsoiler or, if one wasn’t available, some low-ranking Colonist who’d been pressed into service in his household — and it would be their unfortunate lot to see to the distasteful task. And on some days it had been known for the gazunder to be emptied rather late in the day, so its odors would circulate downstairs and permeate the rest of his house. It wasn’t pleasant.
    Another joker in the crowd took his cue from the first. He pretended to sneeze loudly, although he actually shouted the word
potty
for all to hear.
    The braver members of the crowd erupted with laughter.
    Someone had dared to utter the most senior Governor’s nickname — he was widely known as Potty Pearson in the Colony. Or — on occasions — something rather more impolite than that.
    This was a brazen display of lack of respect.
    Mr. Pearson’s face went deep puce, and he bunched his fists. Since he resembled an overstoked boiler, one could almost imagine that steam was going to blast from his ears.
    “I will not tolerate this boorishness!” he bellowed. “First Officer! Detain those people!” Mr. Pearson went even redder. “Where are you, First Officer? Report to me right now! I want those responsible locked up in the Hold!”
    The new First Officer appeared at the side of the platform, then clambered up onto it. The planks of the makeshift dais creaked and shook under his bulk, and several of the Governors gripped the table as if they thought they might at any moment be plunged into the great unwashed before them.
    By this time, Will, Drake, and Mrs. Burrows had reached Market Square and were moving slowly around the edge of the crowd. They were receiving some curious glances from the people on the carts, but on the whole these Colonists were far too engrossed by the public display of insolence unfolding before them to take much notice. In any case, with all the New Germanian troops billeted in the Colony over the past months, they had become far more used to seeing outsiders in their midst.
    “Do your job! Arrest them!” Mr. Pearson insisted, stamping his foot, which caused the platform to shake all over again.
    The First Officer scanned the faces in the crowd, noticing Cleaver and Squeaky close to the front. He hadn’t yet informed the Governors that his predecessor had released