discover the truth, while a ticket of a few quid served for most offences.
The Driver had not intervened directly in the running of the Council â he was too wily for that. Yet the time the dads had
to spend in the Shelter â a whole tariff each day, two every seventh â had brought a davine rigour to everything they undertook.
There was this dampener on the little assembly, and there were also the first symptoms of the pedalo fever: noses were clogged
up, throats were sore, eyes watered. Some of the dads were gripped by an ague so severe that their newly bartered fags shook
from their fingers and fell to the beaten earth. That the Council had to judge the most serious crime on the island in thirteen
years weighed heavily upon all of them, not least because until thirteen years previously the concept â let alone the actuality
â of flying had been unknown on Ham.
The Hack sat on the highest part of the circular wall. He gathered his bubbery carcoat about his hunched back in tight pleats.
His full side whiskers â an anomaly among the Hamstermen, who grew their beards from the chins alone â gave him a magisterial
air. Fred Ridmun stood before him, his official baseball cap in one hand, his cudgel in the other, while Carl and Antonë sat
on the ground at his feet.
â Mì sun, Fred said, az bin gó ä bì Tonë Böm, guv, ee nevah wooduv dun viss stuff wivaht Böm.
â U shor abaht vat? The Hack drew meditatively on his fag. Iz reel dad dun stuff lyke viss innal, innit?
â But wurs, Fred answered. Far wurs.
â Wot cood B wurs van diggin in ve Zön, eh? Eye no wot sumuv U ló bleev in yer arts. Eye no U stil fink vat ve Búk woz fown
ere on Am. U granddads iz ól enuff 2 remembah ve Geezer? There was a low murmur of assent. B4 King Dave vair woz enni numbah
uv pissi lyttul playsez wot ad a clame 2 B ve craydul uv ar faif, innit? Another murmur. But ve Kings granddad, ee chaynjd
all vat. Ee ad a revelashun vat ve Búk woz fahnd in Lundun, aint vat ve troof ?
â Iss ve troof, the ailing Hamsters muttered.
â Iss nó juss ure zön wich iz ferbiddun â all ve zöns on Chil iz juss ve saym. Ven U need brik aw crete aw yok aw grint U gë à from ve edj. But U avent ve skil uv wurkin wiv ironi, an U av no Inspektur 2 soopavys such diggins. Nah vis bloke â he
stabbed a finger at Bóm â oo cums ear a refewjee, ee dares 2 muck abaht in ve Zön. Wot else az ee dun, eh?
â Nah, nah, Mistah Greaves, Fred said, nó a bì-uv-ì, we aint gó no uvva bovva wiv Tonë, ees juss lyke wunnuv us.
The dads gave affirmative grunts, and Fukka Funch spoke up, saying:
â Ee sayvd mì Bellas lyf.
â Izzat so? The Hack addressed himself only to Fred.
â à iz, Tonë iz a grayt jeepee, an im bein kweer ve wimmin av lë im be ä summuv vair birfs.
Mister Greaves shifted into the more sonorous cadences of Arpee, and Antonë Böm realized he meant there to be no further inquisition:
â None the less, flying counts against this man more than giving life counts for him. Flying takes away faith, and without faith
we have nothing, no runs, no points, no intercom, no New London.
â No Nú Lundun, the dads chanted.
Greaves turned to Böm:
â Is there anything you can lay before this Council concerning your behaviour that could possibly justify it in the mirror
of Dave? Do you want to tell us why you took young Carl Dévúsh into the Zöne and why you dug and delved in there?
Antonë Böm looked up at Greaves. He knew something of the Hack's status in the Bouncy Castle of Chil. He knew that, while
Greaves may have paid hard dosh for the privilege of becoming his Lawd's subcontractor, nevertheless he had always been a
sincere protector of the Hamsters. It would do the Hack's cause no good to be seen to go against the Driver â and beyond him
the PCO.
â No, Böm said at
The Driver had not intervened directly in the running of the Council â he was too wily for that. Yet the time the dads had
to spend in the Shelter â a whole tariff each day, two every seventh â had brought a davine rigour to everything they undertook.
There was this dampener on the little assembly, and there were also the first symptoms of the pedalo fever: noses were clogged
up, throats were sore, eyes watered. Some of the dads were gripped by an ague so severe that their newly bartered fags shook
from their fingers and fell to the beaten earth. That the Council had to judge the most serious crime on the island in thirteen
years weighed heavily upon all of them, not least because until thirteen years previously the concept â let alone the actuality
â of flying had been unknown on Ham.
The Hack sat on the highest part of the circular wall. He gathered his bubbery carcoat about his hunched back in tight pleats.
His full side whiskers â an anomaly among the Hamstermen, who grew their beards from the chins alone â gave him a magisterial
air. Fred Ridmun stood before him, his official baseball cap in one hand, his cudgel in the other, while Carl and Antonë sat
on the ground at his feet.
â Mì sun, Fred said, az bin gó ä bì Tonë Böm, guv, ee nevah wooduv dun viss stuff wivaht Böm.
â U shor abaht vat? The Hack drew meditatively on his fag. Iz reel dad dun stuff lyke viss innal, innit?
â But wurs, Fred answered. Far wurs.
â Wot cood B wurs van diggin in ve Zön, eh? Eye no wot sumuv U ló bleev in yer arts. Eye no U stil fink vat ve Búk woz fown
ere on Am. U granddads iz ól enuff 2 remembah ve Geezer? There was a low murmur of assent. B4 King Dave vair woz enni numbah
uv pissi lyttul playsez wot ad a clame 2 B ve craydul uv ar faif, innit? Another murmur. But ve Kings granddad, ee chaynjd
all vat. Ee ad a revelashun vat ve Búk woz fahnd in Lundun, aint vat ve troof ?
â Iss ve troof, the ailing Hamsters muttered.
â Iss nó juss ure zön wich iz ferbiddun â all ve zöns on Chil iz juss ve saym. Ven U need brik aw crete aw yok aw grint U gë à from ve edj. But U avent ve skil uv wurkin wiv ironi, an U av no Inspektur 2 soopavys such diggins. Nah vis bloke â he
stabbed a finger at Bóm â oo cums ear a refewjee, ee dares 2 muck abaht in ve Zön. Wot else az ee dun, eh?
â Nah, nah, Mistah Greaves, Fred said, nó a bì-uv-ì, we aint gó no uvva bovva wiv Tonë, ees juss lyke wunnuv us.
The dads gave affirmative grunts, and Fukka Funch spoke up, saying:
â Ee sayvd mì Bellas lyf.
â Izzat so? The Hack addressed himself only to Fred.
â à iz, Tonë iz a grayt jeepee, an im bein kweer ve wimmin av lë im be ä summuv vair birfs.
Mister Greaves shifted into the more sonorous cadences of Arpee, and Antonë Böm realized he meant there to be no further inquisition:
â None the less, flying counts against this man more than giving life counts for him. Flying takes away faith, and without faith
we have nothing, no runs, no points, no intercom, no New London.
â No Nú Lundun, the dads chanted.
Greaves turned to Böm:
â Is there anything you can lay before this Council concerning your behaviour that could possibly justify it in the mirror
of Dave? Do you want to tell us why you took young Carl Dévúsh into the Zöne and why you dug and delved in there?
Antonë Böm looked up at Greaves. He knew something of the Hack's status in the Bouncy Castle of Chil. He knew that, while
Greaves may have paid hard dosh for the privilege of becoming his Lawd's subcontractor, nevertheless he had always been a
sincere protector of the Hamsters. It would do the Hack's cause no good to be seen to go against the Driver â and beyond him
the PCO.
â No, Böm said at
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