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AN A-Z OF POSSIBLE WORLDS


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This edition was first published by Roastbooks Ltd. No.31, 93 Albert Embankment, London SE1 7TY www.roastbooks.co.uk

Copyright A. C.Tillyer 2009 The right of A. C.Tillyer to be identified with this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

ISBN: 978-1-906894-06-1 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from Roastbooks Ltd.


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THE CASINO When the nations of one continent raced to carve up and colonise the territory of another, they missed a bit. A scrap of rumpled lowlands in the far south-east, crammed between a sun-baked sierra and the eastern ocean, was named, claimed and forgotten. With so much lush and virgin land for the taking, it was simply too small and far away to be worth any trouble. Speculators overlooked its meagre mineral deposits, in favour of mines full of gold and oil elsewhere; missionaries suddenly had whole market loads of souls ripe for conversion and shunned its scattered villages. Pioneers in search of open grasslands could not run their herds on its rocky slopes and explorers scorned its modest countryside. So it never received the benefits of foreign investment, a second language, literacy programmes or railways, but as time clanked onwards and its neighbours industrialised, modernised, boomed, declined and revolted, the neglected slice of land in the far south-east was suddenly discovered to be in possession of a priceless natural resource after all; that of being ‘unspoilt‘. The first settlers began to arrive. They did not march in bearing weapons or driving cattle but discreetly, in pairs, armed with credit cards and accompanied by personal assistants, interior designers and stylists. They did not erect churches and civic halls but built gleaming villas and theme homes in private grounds, with air conditioning and electric fences. No one came here to grow rich; they came because they already were. The land developed into a united nations of the wealthy and powerful, a retirement home for 1


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thirty-year-old billionaires; a place of luxury for the rest of the world to envy and aspire to, a paradise that many dreamt of reaching, which could only be reached by private jet. The natives were employed and housed in the servants’ quarters of sprawling mansions or paid indecent amounts of hard currency for their land and then politely but inexorably shouldered out. Realising that the unspoilt nature of their country made it as vulnerable as it was valuable, the first settlers established a Founders’ Society, which served as an unofficial immigration control. Only those with the funds to live easily, free from the vulgarity of offices, factories, welfare services and public transport, were admitted. The international rich are a quiet race and soon the country had become the most tranquil corner of the planet. Privileged, wealthy people do not hang about in public with nowhere to go or live in streets so narrow that people can shout across them. They do not whistle, hang out their washing, borrow things from their neighbours or queue. They neither kick cans, smash bottles, leave their windows open and booming with music, nor do their children grizzle in backyards. Instead, they have a stately promenade bobbing with marinas, concert halls, golf courses, theatre boxes, and private hospitals. Theirs is a land hushed by hotel foyers and piped music, purring with sleek cars, fountains and the crystal clink of aperitifs on balconies. It is only the ambulance sirens, rare as they are, which shatter the peace of the unspoilt land and they have a visibly unsettling effect on the residents. Their wailing can be heard from a long way off, turning corners, coming nearer and nearer, then shrieking by like a cry of pain. As they pass, the locals freeze in their tracks, transfixed by the blur of red and blue lights and more than one guest has observed their host petrify in mid-sentence and ask if that’s an ambulance outside. Only when they are far enough away and their sirens have been muffled by boulevards and tree-lined avenues, do 2


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the listeners shake their heads and shudder, sometimes muttering that at least it is not them or they wonder whose number has come up this time. Ambulances clearly spoil their day but they are infrequent and it is easy to understand how people adapted to peace and quiet, would develop a heightened sensitivity to noise. This audible blemish to the equilibrium reflects a deeper anxiety in the hearts of the populace, for those without a care in the world have not conquered the limitations of the flesh, even though theirs is soft and exquisitely scented. Death is waiting for the rich as surely as it is for the poor but those who are used to having their own way find it impossible to accept their own mortality. Inhabitants of the unspoilt country cannot imagine a version of paradise that could rival the one in which they are already living. Money cannot secure eternity but it can buy a certain amount of time. The residents of the unspoilt country have succeeded in delaying the rendezvous with their maker for as long as possible. They have poured considerable resources into healthcare and have financed the development of life enhancing drugs that are too expensive for general use in the rest of the world. It is not unusual for healthy people to employ a personal doctor and weekly, even daily, medicals are commonplace. Teetotalism, vegetarianism and nonsmoking are the norm. If the country has a national sport, it is aerobics. The national pastime is comparing cholesterol levels and blood pressure; the national dish is the vitamin pill. Life expectancy has soared; the average male can expect at least a century of healthy life and it usually takes him a further twenty years to die. The unspoilt country did not need a government. Nobody wanted the commotion of a democracy; with all the attendant headaches of elections and speeches and constitutions and foreign policies. The 3


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Founders’ Society, originally open only to the offspring of the first settlers but which soon welcomed anyone who cared to join, were generally regarded as the, ‘Ones Who Made Decisions’. The Founders liked to think of their territory as a club rather than a nation; they were merely acting as its committee. The Society always met informally at a plush casino; a vast glass pavilion overlooking the bay. Once in a while, there was an application for entry, which they approved or rejected according to the financial status and personal connections of the applicant. Occasionally, they commented on plans for new buildings but their gatherings were primarily social events that ended up round the tables. For a long time, this informal agreement had worked without a hitch but several generations ago, despite the abundance of financial resources, the country faced a crisis. Stringent immigration laws could only protect its numbers from newcomers; nothing could save it from the population pressures that were being exerted from within. The problem was aggravated by a profusion of octogenarians who were in the habit of importing companions little more than a quarter of their age and at the peak of their fertility. The people were reproducing but they were not dying. As it became apparent that the burgeoning and top-heavy population would soon threaten the exclusivity of their lifestyle, the Society began to meet more regularly. Their pleasant chats developed into discussions that escalated into bitter debates and soon the possibility of a polite agreement had evaporated. The Founders divided into factions and amid accusations of prejudice and bribery; they were forced to elect a chairman by majority vote. Their meetings grew longer and more turbulent but try as they might, they could not break the deadlock. Everyone acknowledged that something had to be done but no one actually wanted to take action. Yet without a tangible fall in the growth rate, 4


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queues would form, colds would spread and there would be sand in your face on the beach. Before you knew it, the club houses would overcrowd, the golf courses would congest and there would be nowhere to park. Gradually, insidiously, the enclave of serenity, which they had taken so much pride in protecting, would become a little bit more like everywhere else with each year that passed. In short, something unpleasant was on the horizon. The Founders could only hope to limit the damage. Initially, they halted immigration altogether but it was clear that this wasn’t going to be enough. As their desperation grew, suggestions for a solution became more and more drastic but they rejected them all. As most of the Founders were over sixty, the idea of compulsory euthanasia at a certain age was unanimously vetoed. The introduction of a dangerous sport was considered distasteful, since it was felt that this would prey on the young and anyway, accidents were ugly and upsetting. No one wanted to restrict the number of children or companions a person could support and they were all reluctant to expel their offspring from the country when they reached a certain age. They had not worked so hard to stockpile their wealth just to be left to enjoy it alone. One evening, before they were all seated, an ousted dictator from some tropical state that nobody had ever heard of, who still sported a chest full of medals on his blazing white suit, announced that he had the answer. His blustering manner had already marked him out as an eccentric. The other members smiled indulgently. “What we need,” he boomed, “is a lottery.” Several people coughed and one snorted. A lottery was the last thing required by a society inhabited entirely by winners and without the slightest 5


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need of charity. The chairman tried to guide him back to the point but he persisted. A lottery would solve everything. He had thought it out carefully and it was the only way. This was the land of the lucky few, wasn’t it? And they had succeeded, hadn’t they, in eliminating chance from their lives as far as possible? Wasn’t this lack of the unpredictable precisely the root of the problem? People were living forever! Disease had been eradicated and infections were nil. Accidents were almost never fatal. Many of them were on their third or fourth batch of kids but infant mortality was unknown, unless you counted miscarriages. Well, all they needed to do was reintroduce an element of chance into the system; one that they could control, one that would not actually upset the overall status quo. The Founders sipped their soft drinks in silence. They did not like the idea of risk re- entering their lives, although the mention of control sugared the pill. The former ‘Dictator and Protector of the People’ steamed ahead, outlining his plan. “It’s simple,” he said. “Brutal, maybe, but radical measures are unavoidable and we are men who do not deal in compromise.” He was aware of glances being exchanged across the table and was reminded, briefly, of former strategy meetings with his generals, when he had felt that they were sharing a private joke over his lack of intellect but dared not laugh in his face. Well! They hadn’t listened to him then and they had lived to regret it; some of them not very long. He wouldn’t be swayed, he spread his arms dismissively and raised his voice, “We’ll give everyone a number,” he continued. “Let them choose their own, if they must. Couples can share the same one if it makes them feel better, these are just details. Everyone will have an equal stake in the game and every now and then, we’ll pick a number. Whoever wins, well, they’ll 6


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have to be eliminated one way or another; it’s as simple as that. Some of us have got to go and at least this way it’s fair. We’ll keep it clean and quick, of course, pleasurable even.” He folded his arms over his gut and regarded the faces hovering round the table. “You’re not suggesting that we should execute people just so that we can carry on living in the manner to which we have grown accustomed?” exclaimed a keen yachtsman, who had himself been a rollover jackpot winner in his previous existence. “It’s no different from serving in the army to protect your country,” commented the ex-dictator. “Except this way, we all serve equally. We have the cause, just not the war, as such.” “But how often will we hold a draw?” spluttered an arms dealer whose mistress had recently given birth to twins. “I mean, we can’t pull a number out of the hat every time someone has a baby. One in, one out, it’s, well, it’s prehistoric!” “Can you imagine anyone actually claiming their prize,” sneered a great nephew, twice removed, of an original Founder. “What’s the jackpot?” sniggered a ravaged, middle-aged man whose unique fusion of rock and spiritual music had once filled the world’s stadia. “A few turns on the rack? What happens on a rollover week?” “Can I set the balls in motion?” chimed a bygone bodybuilder and film star, renowned for his karate kicks and straining crotch, joining in the spirit of things. “I’ll have a captive audience, won’t I?” No one else was laughing. “It would have to be a secret draw,” growled the former dictator, his medals trembling with suppressed 7


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rage, “obviously.” The pair of jokers tinkled the ice in their glasses as the room ignited in argument around them. The draws would have to be held in secret, true, but the lottery itself must be public knowledge. How should it be controlled? Would anyone be exempt? What about children? Until what age? There could be no exceptions, none at all. Newcomers would have to accept the rules before they were granted residency. It would be best to keep this quiet from the rest of the world. Do we spin a wheel or pick balls out of a tube? How many digits would be needed to ensure the correct amount of winners? Losers, really; to win is to lose, to lose is to win. Eventually, for the very first time, the chairman was forced to ring his little brass bell. The room came to order. “I think,” he declared by way of summing up, “that this idea is fraught with problems. It is, however, worth serious consideration, which I am confident it will receive at our next meeting.” From that time onwards, the Founders’ Society observed a strict code of secrecy. When they had perfected the scheme to their own satisfaction, they issued a public statement. There was going to be a national lottery, they said and everyone, without exception, would be obliged to play. There would be twenty draws a year, on dates that would be randomly selected. The first draw would not take place before three months from today. People not wishing to participate forfeited their right of residency and must be out of the country by that date. The lottery would take place in a public hall, where anyone was free to observe the process to ensure that it was fair. To gain entry, spectators must provide personal identification and would not be allowed to leave the room until the draw was over and the winner had been located. 8


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Whoever’s number was drawn would be collected immediately by an emergency vehicle. Sirens were unpleasant but they were necessary, otherwise everyone would be jumping out of their skins each time a car pulled up outside. Winners would be aware of little more than the arrival of an ambulance and their apprehension by its medical crew. To avoid upsetting their families or creating nasty disturbances, people were advised not to put up any resistance. Besides, the crew would be armed and there could be no appeal. Sedatives would be administered as soon as the doors of the vehicle were closed and oblivion would follow in approximately thirty seconds. Obstructing an ambulance, identified by red and blue flashing lights, was strictly prohibited. The winner would be rushed to the nearest hospital, where a lethal injection would be administered within three minutes of arrival. Death would be painless and practically instantaneous. Requests could be made for special drugs, provided that this was done by previous agreement and the process of leaving consciousness did not take longer than an hour. Relatives would not be allowed to accompany the dead but their final moments would be videoed, should loved ones wish to witness their passing at a later date. The body would be released to the family for disposal, if desired. Otherwise, the Society would cremate the remains in a dignified and sanitary manner. The announcement was followed by a short statement entitled, ‘An Appeal to Reason’. In it, the Founders outlined the problems they were now facing and predicted a bleak future for their private heaven, if the population rate was allowed to rise unabated. It pointed out that governments were often forced to call on the young to risk their lives in a national emergency; this method merely spread the danger evenly throughout the populace. The Society reminded people that statistically, their country was still the safest place to live on the planet, free as it was from pestilence, 9


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poverty and the envy of the less fortunate. Theirs was perhaps the most cosmopolitan community in the world; as wealth reaches across the usual boundaries of race and religion. The lottery, now called the Paradise Lottery, would act as a common bond and unite the people as one nation, which would soon have its own martyrs. The Founders entreated their public to venerate all the winners who had laid down their lives as heroes, in order that their country could continue to flourish in peace. Although death was unpleasant whichever way you looked at it, at least this method would minimise the discomfort and indignity that it usually entailed. It would also, they believed, soothe the grief of survivors, who would be spared from witnessing the often excruciatingly long, final illnesses of their friends and relatives. Their appreciation of the good things in life might actually be heightened by the knowledge that their loved ones had made the ultimate sacrifice, so that they might enjoy them. They begged the residents to regard the Paradise Lottery as a necessity, a fact of life if their land was not to become like everywhere else. The statement concluded, ‘Peace on Earth is something but Peace and Quiet is something better.’ The unspoilt country of the rich and privileged succeeded in preserving itself as precisely that. Only a few of the faint-hearted emigrated after the announcement. For a crime-free society, a surprising number of the population were wanted abroad and preferred the slight danger of luxury here, to the more certain prospect of prison elsewhere. Many more would simply rather die than pay tax. But most really did believe that life in the reservoir of wealth was worth the risk. Perhaps the very fortunate just cannot believe that their luck will ever run out. After the Paradise Lottery had been running successfully for several years, a group of residents demanded a public enquiry into the 10


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Founders’ Society and their lucky draw. They protested that since it had begun, not one of the Founders, their families, or any of their friends, had ever been drawn as winners. The Society issued a curt statement, inviting any dissenters to come and witness the draws, to ensure that everything was honest and open. But few people ever did attend the public lottery and after several of the complainants won it themselves, the objections petered out. The country has remained unspoilt and unruffled ever since. Nothing, apart from the occasional screech of an approaching siren, has ever threatened to disturb its peace again.

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