"Greetings, along with a humble word from one of your subjects. The air has been turned off, and will remain off until such time as I decide to turn it on again. If, in the meanwhile, you wish the ventilation restored, kindly announce in the Blare or the Screamer when and where you will grant me an audience. But before our meeting can take place, you must guarantee, on your word of honor and that of your ancestors, not to permit me to be molested in any way. Should this condition be violated, the country will remain airless forever.
"Yours militantly,
resident People's Better Air Association."
On the following "wake" I dispatched a similar message, and again on the third "wake"; while Thuno Flâtum, with characteristic stubbornness, still withheld his reply. He had had the poor discretion, however, to give out my letters to the newspapers (or, rather, his secretary had had such poor discretion, for Thuno Flâtum was known to be too busy fishing ever to read his correspondence). Hence both the Blare and the Screamer, on three successive "wakes," reproduced my communications in full, commenting that they were manifestly the work of a madman who should be hunted by the police and sentenced to the violet ray. Subsequent developments showed that the editor of neither paper suspected what an effect the public announcements were to have.
Meanwhile the officers of the Ventilation Company, driven almost insane by the failure of the air-supply, had turned from their customary task of counting dividends in order to try to trace the reason for the lack of ventilation. All their inspectors and engineers were made to work overtime; I myself, much to my amusement, was instructed to exert myself diligently to locate the trouble; and, of course, I made a great show of seeming to comply, and bustled about my headquarters officiously, flinging out orders by the dozen, and sending off my subordinates to search in places where, I knew, they would find nothing. That the cause of the air-stoppage would not be discovered seemed a foregone conclusion; for the chalk-faces, thanks to their inability to see clearly close at hand, might search for years without being able to notice the all-important little wheel.
By the third "wake," the Directors of the Ventilation Company were in despair, Thuno Flâtum and the other high officers of the state were said to be wearing a worried expression; the Dictator had cancelled an engagement to play "poli-boli" (an athletic game, played with marbles, especially popular with First Class citizens); and riots were breaking out in scores of widely scattered places. Unless imminent relief were forthcoming, as the Screamer plainly hinted in an editorial, the "sneeze-gas bombs" would not be able to control the mobs.
At the same time, the Blare, in a front-page article, reversed its previous attitude, and advised the Dictator to see "the madman who insolently terms himself President of the People's Better Air Association." Conditions were becoming so critical, the paper pointed out, that it would be wise to clutch at any straw; indeed, the scarcity of air was ruining business, as was evident from the fact that bank clearings had gone down 75% in the past two "wakes." If the strike continued another three or four "wakes," the cost might well rise as high as 100,000,000 "silver fingers." The possible cost in life was not considered.
The argument of the Blare, as might have been foreseen, proved unanswerable. The people, loyal as always to the printed word, were clamorous in demanding that their Dictator see the "President of the People's Better Air Association"; and no one seemed to remember that only a few hours before, they had been equally clamorous in begging their Dictator to refuse the interview. But such little reversals of opinion were so common in Wu that I was not even surprised.
Immediately I began making preparations for that meeting which I now knew to be inevitable. It was not half an hour later when a new edition of the Blare declared that Thuno Flâtum was awaiting my visit, and, in fact, had high hopes that our interview would end the strike. And it was but a few minutes after reading this announcement when I set out on my private "scootscoot" for the palace of the Dictator.
I did not, however, go alone. To appear before the sovereign unattended did not seem either wise or safe, particularly since I had to present a proposal which, to say the least, was very bold. But who was to accompany me? This question was very simply answered. Had I not two thousand ventilation employees who were at my beck and call in all things? Why not pick an escort of, say, about three or four hundred?