“I don’t know,” Jane replied. “Nobody seems to have given it any thought.”
“We can’t stay here for the rest of our lives,” Danny said.
“You wouldn’t have thought so, would you?” Jane answered. “But I don’t think we’re in any position to leave without permission.”
“Permission!” Danny snapped. “Haven’t you still got that gun, then?”
“Yes,” Jane admitted, “but what does that solve? Even if I were to shoot Professor Montalban, all that would achieve would be a hole in his cardigan. Not that I think he’d try and stop us just walking out—not by force, I mean—but he did drop very strong hints that if we make nuisances of ourselves it’ll be Sergeant Pepper time, and personally I don’t want to take responsibility for that.”
“So, what’s happening?” Danny said. “I mean, we can’t just sit here. Surely someone’s planning to do something.”
Jane sipped some tea and sat down on a chaise longue. “From what I can gather,” Jane said, “we’ve really got to wait for Vanderdecker to show up. He’s the only person I can think of who’s got any sort of hold over the Professor.”
Danny frowned. “How do you mean?”
“Well,” Jane said, “first, it looks like when Montalban got off Vanderdecker’s ship all those hundreds of years ago, he left some of his notebooks behind, with all sorts of calculations and results in them that he hasn’t been able to reproduce since. I think Vanderdecker’s still got them, and that’s a start, isn’t it?”
“Possibly.”
“And then,” Jane went on, “there’s the Vanderdecker policy. If anyone ever finds out about that, then bang goes the National Lombard Bank, and with it Montalban’s research funding.”
“But that’s not really a threat,” Danny said, “given that that would achieve exactly the same result as Sergeant Pepper, which is what I imagine we’re trying to prevent. Also,” he added, “I don’t think all that much of your first angle, either.”
“You don’t?”
“Try this as a threat. “Montalban,” you say, “give up your whole research project or we won’t let you have your notes on a small part of it back.” Breathtaking. He’s got us all stuffed. Even I can’t do anything.”
Jane forbore to comment on that one. “Oh well,” she said, “never mind. Have you actually asked yourself what’s so utterly terrible about Montalban’s conspiracy, or whatever it is?”
Danny stared. “Are you serious?” he said. “It’s a
“It’s the way things have been run for the last three hundred odd years,” Jane said thoughtfully. “True, I never liked it much myself, but I don’t think the fact that it’s an organised scheme by a really quite pleasant old Spanish gentleman in Cirencester, rather than the accumulated megalomania and negligence of generations of world statesmen, makes it any the more terrible, do you? I mean, Montalban isn’t planning to overthrow democracy or annexe the Sudetenland, he’s just trying to get rid of a smell. Will it really be so awful if he succeeds?”
“But…” Danny spluttered. He knew exactly why it was so pernicious and so wrong, but he couldn’t quite find the words. “But he’s just one man, one selfish individual, and he’s controlling the lives of millions and millions of people. You can’t do that. It’s not right.”
“Oh, I see,” Jane said. “So if we have third world poverty and nuclear weapons and East—West hostility and economic depressions, but all brought about by means of the democratic process, then that’s all right, but if just one man is responsible then it’s tyranny. Sorry, I never did history at school, I don’t understand these things.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Danny said, “you entirely fail to grasp…”
“Very likely,” Jane said sweetly. “But before you found out about Montalban, you would have given your life to defend the fundamental basics of our society and our way of life against the Montalbans of this world; the status quo, you’d probably call it. And now it turns out to be all his doing, you suddenly realise it’s evil and it’s got to go. Please explain.”
Danny glared at her and drew in a deep breath. “So you’re on his side now, are you? I see.”
Jane shook her head. “I’m not on anybody’s side. You make it sound like hockey matches at school. I don’t care at all whether Montalban gets rid of his smell or not—or rather, I do; I think it must be rather awful to smell, and besides, if he finds a cure for it then Vanderdecker will be cured too, and I…well, I like him. And I also don’t want to see some sort of dreadful Wall Street Crash, and everybody jumping out of windows the length and breadth of King William Street, because that isn’t going to help anyone, now is it? Whereas—” Jane suddenly realised that she’d used the word “whereas” in conversation, and didn’t know whether to feel ashamed or proud—“whereas if everybody’s sensible and we all act like grown-ups, we can all sort things out and everyone can have what they want.”
“Can they?”
