Naturally, both the Blare and the Screamer were delighted to report the tragedy; and having already learned of my letter to the Committee, the editors of both journals concluded that the occasion called for another "Extra-extra," which they proceeded to issue without allowing time for second thought. Since great minds, even in Wu, tend to run in the same channel, the position taken by both editors was identical: that the blow had been struck by the "Citizen's Anti-Strike Committee," whose "High Chief Commander" was fulfilling his promise to give a "manifestation of his wrath."
Now I have always been convinced that the attack upon the headquarters of the Central Committee would have ended the strike, whether or not I had had any connection with the affair. The workers, deprived of their leaders, would have been disorganized; and disorganization would have led to the collapse of the whole movement. But, as it happened, no one seemed to realize this; no one ever thought of disagreeing with the Blare and the Screamer, which, in order to make sensational news stories, gave me the entire credit for the accomplishment. Not half a dozen hours had passed after the Subterrain attack before the strike was officially over; the laborers, intimidated by dread of a foe who could take deadly and mysterious vengeance, were afraid to remain defiant; and such was their general level of thoughtlessness that reason had no power against their superstitious terror.
Even while the strike was being settled, I received a visit from a distinguished delegation. I was still seated in the Ventilation Office, gnawing at a lunch of concentrated food capsules and amusing myself by reading of my alleged exploits in the Screamer, when the blast of a whistle at the door made me leap up with a start. Would I have another Striking Sub-Committee to fight? No!—nothing so alarming! Riding toward me on "scootscoots" decorated with green and vermilion, and surrounded by dozens of obsequious lackeys, were three chalk-faces whose shriveled forms, profuse adornments, and artificial eyes, ears, and breathing apparatus proclaimed them to be First Class citizens.
In accordance with the requirements of good form, I bowed low, sweeping the floor with the palm of my hand as a sign of deference; but at the same time I was sorely troubled, for what could such dignitaries desire of me?
Without acknowledging my bow, one of the First Class men lifted a megaphone to his mouth and addressed me abruptly, as was deemed only proper in the presence of a menial.
"Tell me, sir, are you the High Chief Commander of the Citizens' Anti-Strike Committee?"
With a gasp, I acknowledged being the person referred to.
The entire procession had now come to a halt at a distance of about twenty feet, and I could see how the three First Class citizens were turning their telescope-like eye-pieces in my direction.
"You have done a noble service in the cause of your country and of the First Class," continued my interlocutor. "I shall not question you too much on your methods, lest they prove, well—shall we say in violation of the letter of the Criminal Code? Allow me to introduce myself, sir, as the thirteenth Vice-Executive Director of the Ventilation Company."