A Diversity of Creatures | Page 8

said they practised it among
themselves about what they'd have to eat in their flats and hotels. Yes,
sir! They stood up behind Bluthner's doubled ground-circuits, and they
said that, in this present year of grace, to self-owning men and women,
on that very spot! Then they finished'--he lowered his voice
cautiously--'by talking about "The People." And then Bluthner he had
to sit up all night in charge of the circuits because he couldn't trust his
men to keep 'em shut.'
'It was trying 'em too high,' the Chief of Police broke in. 'But we
couldn't hold the Crowd ground-circuited for ever. I gathered in all the
Serviles on charge of Crowd-making, and put 'em in the water-tower,
and then I let things cut loose. I had to! The District lit like a sparked
gas-tank!'
'The news was out over seven degrees of country,' the Mayor continued;

'and when once it's a question of invasion of privacy, good-bye to right
and reason in Illinois! They began turning out traffic-lights and locking
up landing-towers on Thursday night. Friday, they stopped all traffic
and asked for the Board to take over. Then they wanted to clean
Chicago off the side of the Lake and rebuild elsewhere--just for a
souvenir of "The People" that the Serviles talked about. I suggested that
they should slag the Old Market where the meeting was held, while I
turned in a call to you all on the Board. That kept 'em quiet till you
came along. And--and now you can take hold of the situation.'
'Any chance of their quieting down?' De Forest asked.
'You can try,' said the Mayor.
De Forest raised his voice in the face of the reviving Crowd that had
edged in towards us. Day was come.
'Don't you think this business can be arranged?' he began. But there was
a roar of angry voices:
'We've finished with Crowds! We aren't going back to the Old Days!
Take us over! Take the Serviles away! Administer direct or we'll kill
'em! Down with The People!'
An attempt was made to begin MacDonough's Song. It got no further
than the first line, for the Victor Pirolo sent down a warning drone on
one stopped horn. A wrecked side-wall of the Old Market tottered and
fell inwards on the slag-pools. None spoke or moved till the last of the
dust had settled down again, turning the steel case of Salad's Statue
ashy grey.
'You see you'll just have to take us over,' the Mayor whispered.
De Forest shrugged his shoulders.
'You talk as if executive capacity could be snatched out of the air like
so much horse-power. Can't you manage yourselves on any terms?' he
said.

'We can, if you say so. It will only cost those few lives to begin with,'
The Mayor pointed across the square, where Arnott's men guided a
stumbling group of ten or twelve men and women to the lake front and
halted them under the Statue.
'Now I think,' said Takahira under his breath, 'there will be trouble.'
The mass in front of us growled like beasts.
At that moment the sun rose clear, and revealed the blinking assembly
to itself. As soon as it realized that it was a crowd we saw the shiver of
horror and mutual repulsion shoot across it precisely as the steely flaws
shot across the lake outside. Nothing was said, and, being half blind, of
course it moved slowly. Yet in less than fifteen minutes most of that
vast multitude--three thousand at the lowest count--melted away like
frost on south eaves. The remnant stretched themselves on the grass,
where a crowd feels and looks less like a crowd.
'These mean business,' the Mayor whispered to Takahira. 'There are a
goodish few women there who've borne children. I don't like it.'
The morning draught off the lake stirred the trees round us with
promise of a hot day; the sun reflected itself dazzlingly on the
canister-shaped covering of Salati's Statue; cocks crew in the gardens,
and we could hear gate-latches clicking in the distance as people
stumblingly resought their homes.
'I'm afraid there won't be any morning deliveries,' said De Forest. 'We
rather upset things in the country last night.'
'That makes no odds,' the Mayor returned. 'We're all provisioned for six
months. We take no chances.'
Nor, when you come to think of it, does any one else. It must be
three-quarters of a generation since any house or city faced a food
shortage. Yet is there house or city on the Planet to-day that has not
half a year's provisions laid in? We are like the shipwrecked seamen in

the old books, who, having once nearly starved to death, ever
afterwards hide away bits of food and biscuit. Truly we trust no
Crowds, nor system based