Part 21 (2/2)

'Well, this is very cosy, I must say,' he gibed. He studied the remains of Christopher's crustacean. 'Good afternoon, Mr Rice. If everyone at that New World reception of yours returns the compliment, you'll be eating out till next Christmas.'

Pennington made a show of topping up Christopher's gla.s.s.

'No one to have lunch with, Kirkham?'

'Plenty, thanks. Do I take it we're going to see another radical reform in teaching structures after this?'

'Meaning?'

'All schools and colleges, sorry universities universities, furnished with a single national curriculum computer?'

'We'd have to ask parents and teachers first.'

'Oh. Oh. You've heard of them, then?'

Pennington had been beating a Devil's Tattoo on the table.

'If you want to make a spectacle of yourself, Kirkham, why not do it in the Chamber and get a bigger audience?'

A look of gleeful smugness slid across Clive Kirkham's face. 'Not seen this evening's Standard Standard yet, then?' yet, then?'

Pennington sighed. 'I suppose you've written a piece for them. I hope they paid your expenses.'

'b.l.o.o.d.y typical!' exploded Kirkham. 'The government negates its responsibilities by letting New World take care of privatized education, just so they can do less and less!'

Christopher watched Pennington turning a bright shade of scarlet. He decided it was time for him to step in before blood or, worse, wine was spilled. He coughed lightly. 'Mr Kirkham, I think you may be jumping the gun a tadge.'

'Oh, you reckon that do you, laddie? I warn you now, don't overestimate the big boys. They don't let just anyone into their playground.'

Pennington opened his mouth to speak, but Christopher held up a hand. 'Let me explain it in simple terms. Desmond asked me up here to establish exactly what New World's agenda is. As you pointed out, Mr Kirkham, we're pretty unusual. There's bound to be suspicion over any new innovation, and we at New World, to coin that hackneyed phrase, are the cutting edge. Desmond here is simply concerned as to where this might be leading.'

Desmond Pennington was studying the stem of his wine gla.s.s.

'Absolute tosh,' protested Kirkham.

Christopher, who reckoned himself a dab hand at seeming reasonable, was not abashed. 'We're an open book. And you're more than welcome to visit at any time.'

'I might take you up on that.'

'Good. I look forward to reading your article in the Standard Standard.'

When Kirkham nodded, his whole body bobbed as if it could scarcely contain his furious excitement. He turned on his heel, narrowly missed a waitress and left the dining-room.

'Hyperactive little twerp,' muttered Pennington. 'Well done, Mr Rice; you fielded him like a pro. Perhaps you should consider a career in politics.'

17.

Web on the Line t's compet.i.tion time! Since we can't go over to the 'I national news at the moment, let's have a little quizette to keep the airwaves humming.'

Anthony sat alone in his studio. He was drowning. All the back-up feeds from outside sources were failing. No news, no traffic reports, no weather. He wanted to pull the show, but the producer was relentless. He had to get as far as the handover at fourteen hundred, then someone from Jesus FM could cope.

Just ring in to us with the name of the founder of Tantric Buddhism, and you could win an N Treble U prayer mat. But, and here's the hard bit, you have to spell the guy's name too.

And if you want a clue, he was said to have been born in a lotus bud. Perhaps his mother was a budding gardener. No, but seriously, give us a call.'

He paused to wait for the calls to come flooding in.

Nothing happened. He glanced at the transmission lights to see if they were still on air. The light was still green, and the producer without a sc.r.a.p of pity. But what did you expect from a computer?

He scratched at an irritation on his hand. On the console beside him was Danny's crumpled sc.r.a.p of paper. The strands of web attached to it glistened. He thought they twitched, but it was just the air-conditioning.

'And if you've got problems you want to talk about, why not give us a call? I've got problems too. Ring in your phone number and I'll call you.'

' 0135 666 416. Caaall Noo Wooooorrlld, 0135 666 416. Caaall Noo Wooooorrlld, ' sang a jingle. ' sang a jingle.

'Come on, somebody. Anybody. You can't all have switched off Is there anybody there? One rap, yes. Two raps, no. If there's anybody out there, even by mistake, give me a ring.'

At last the Line One light began to flash.

'And who's calling us on Line One?'

Through a curtain of crackles he heard a voice say.

' Anthony, it's Danny. Anthony, it's Danny. ' '

'And where are you calling from, Danny?'

' It's me. Danny Hinton. I'm still alive. It's me. Danny Hinton. I'm still alive. ' '

Anthony froze. 'Danny?'

The kid's voice sounded terrified. ' Listen. It's coming. It's Listen. It's coming. It's already coming for me, but it wants all of us! You've got to already coming for me, but it wants all of us! You've got to warn...' warn...'

Anthony's hand hit a b.u.t.ton.

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