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hold out the pressure of the water beyond. As a result, the glass wasn't crystal
clear. Patches had a smoky appearance and some parts were not quite level. But
it was enough to show what lay outside.
Outside lay the ocean. Rows of lights led away from the gigantic window, set
into the sea bed and glowing faintly. The illumination was low-level, but
sufficient to show them what lay out there. Sarah took several steps forward as
the others crowded into the room behind her. She heard Doyle gasp in amazement
at the view.
'Quite staggering, isn't it?' asked Breckinridge proudly
Sarah didn't want to admit that it was, so she continued moving. There was only
one piece of furniture in the room, a table of sorts. Strapped to it,
unconscious, \\as Kipling. She spared him a quick glance to be certain he was
still breathing, then moved until she was touching the huge window.
The sea bed looked marvellous. Rocks, pebbles and sand were illuminated gently.
In the distance - probably only a few hundred yards away in the dark waters -
was a large wheel, set in a spool. Attached to the wheel were more lights. This
was clearly the source of the mysterious lighting that they had witnessed from
their boat the previous night.
Closer to the window was a garden of sorts. There were seaweeds there, and other
plants, all in neat, short rows. They were obviously being cultivated, and Sarah
gasped as she saw the workers in these strange fields. There were almost two
dozen of them - merfolk, all children. Each of them was naked, their upper
torsos human, their lower sections dolphinine. They moved slowly along the rows,
weeding and checking the growing plants. Sarah stared at them, and recognized
one of them as the girl who had saved her life. She looked as if she were the
oldest one among them, and seemed to be in some kind of charge over them.
Beyond the workers, though, were three dark shapes that moved continually: the
seal guards.
'Dear Lord!' said Doyle fervently, from behind her
'They're bleeding real,' muttered Abercrombie. He glanced uncertainly at his
boss. 'I guess your warped brother ain't entirely mad.'
'On the contrary,' the Doctor said, in a soft, dangerous voice that Sarah knew
too well, 'he's criminally insane.' The Doctor whirled around to glower at
Breckinridge and Ross. 'Those are children out there that you've mutilated.'
'Mutilated?' Breckinridge sounded incredulous. 'Doctor, they're not mutilated at
all! They're magnificent! They can stay out there indefinitely, harvesting the
sea, and they are viable, the nucleus of a brand new race. I assure you, they
are not ill-treated.'
'They're slaves,' the Doctor thundered. 'That's why you need those guards: to
prevent your slave army from escaping!'
'They're useful, for the first time in their miserable little lives,' protested
Breckinridge. 'Doctor, every one of those children out there was doomed to die
if they stayed here on the land. They're all from the docks and wharves and
gutters. Parasites, scavengers and worse. Now, thanks to Ross and myself, they
have useful, productive lives.'
'Useful to you,' the Doctor countered. 'Production for you. None of them. was
given the chance to decide whether they wanted that life or not. You made that
choice for them.'
'They were hardly in a position to make rational judgements, Doctor,'
Breckinridge argued. 'Dirty, ill-educated, disgusting little urchins from the
dregs of the street. Now look at them - they're magnificent!'
'Not all of them,' Sarah said quietly. 'One of them is a boy named Anders, from
the same school as Kipling. He's got parents that care for him, and he wouldn't
have been a parasite.'
'True,' agreed Breckinridge. 'But he stumbled across us one night when certain
supplies were being delivered. It was either change him or kill him.' He nodded
at the glass. 'I assume you approve of the choice I made?'
'I approve of nothing you do,' she answered. 'It's inhuman, disgusting and
perverted.'
Breckinridge flushed. 'I should have known you wouldn't understand,' he snapped.
'Can't you see that those children are better out there than they would be if
this asinine Government of ours had their way? All this talk of educating the
street brats. What a waste! Thev don't have the minds or the imaginations to
take advantage of an education. And who would pay for their waste of time?
Businessmen like myself, that's who! Well, out there -' he gestured savagely out
of the window again ' - is my response to the unwanted children. We can
transform them, put them to useful work, to extend Man's dominion.'
'To enslave them,' the Doctor added coldly. 'To make them work for you. That's
the real reason, isn't it?' He pointed to the garden. 'That's pathetic, a sham.
What you really have in mind is to make the children work for you, isn't that
it? That wheel of light of yours has no real point, does it?'
'It has its reasons, Doctor,' Breckinridge responded. 'I'm training those
children because, as you rightly observe, they will have to work to repay me for
all I've done for them. I foresee a future. Doctor, where the world is linked by
communication. The telegraph is outmoded, and the telephone is just beginning. I
see a day when pictures as well as words can be transmitted through such cables.
And he who has the network in place will be the master of this new world.'
'So that's it,' said Colonel Ross. 'Those children are being trained to work so
they can lay your cables.'
'Precisely,' agreed Breckinridge. 'Do you have any idea how expensive it is to
lay cables from ships? And if one breaks, there's no way to repair it. You have
to start over again, laying a new sea-bed cable. But with my race of merfolk out
there, those problems cease. They can lay the cables and even repair them, if
needed, at any depths. They're the perfect workers, and they will help me to
bncome the leader in a new world order.'
'I pity you,' the Doctor said, in that icy, dangerous tone of his. 'Ross, at
least, is doing his filthy work as a perversion of science. But you are doing it
simply to make more money.'
'And what's wrong with making money?' cried Breckinridge. 'Without men like me,
this world would grind to a sorry halt in days. It is my money that gives the
people here in town work. It's my money that funds research, and brings on the
future!'
'It's your money that bastardizes everything that we hold holy and just,'
snapped Colonel Ross. 'This perversion is sickening, and must be destroyed.'
'No!' snapped the Doctor. 'Ross, try and control that indignation of yours.' He
pointed out of the window. 'Those are children out there. They never asked for
the fate they've been given, and they're innocent of any blame.'
'Whatever they may once have been,' countered Ross, 'they are abominations now.'
'If you touch one of those children,' the Doctor vowed, 'I shall personally take
great pleasure in breaking every bone in your body - commencing with those in
your inner ears.'
Breckinridge laughed. 'Come now, gentlemen,' he said. 'Please don't argue about
this. After all, you seem to forget who is in charge here. It is I, not you, who
decides what shall happen. You are both powerless.' He smirked at all his
captives. 'The future belongs to me, not to any of you, because none of you has
a future.'
'You're wrong,' said Sarah flatly. 'You don't have a future. I know, because I'm
from it.'
'What?' Breckinridge stared at her, his face a twisted mass of emotions. It was
clear that he didn't quite believe that claim, but also that he wasn't certain
what she was up to. His eyes narrowed. 'You expect me to believe that'' You're
just trying to - '
'Believe it,' Sarah told him. 'I'm not due to be born for over sixty years yet.
I'm from that future you're talking about, and I can tell you that nowhere are
you mentioned. Oh, everything you've talked about is there, and more. But
there's no genius named Breckinridge anywhere in it.' She gestured towards
Kipling. 'In fact, he's going to become far more famous than you could ever be.
He's going to become a great writer.'
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