"01 - Armageddon, the Musical (b)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rankin Robert)

Fergus nodded brightly. He was a curious fellow. Somewhat lop-sided of face and bent of body, he carried about with him a mysterious air which, real or imagined, gave him a certain authority. Mungo Madoc could never quite bring himself to call him Shaman, at least not to his face.

'I have the solution,' said Fergus Shaman. That is all.'

'Then the floor is yours.' Mungo reseated himself, clasped his fingers before him on the tabletop and smiled the sweetest of smiles.

'Whether or not The Earthers was scheduled to end in 999, I don't know; neither in truth, do I care.' Ignoring the raised eyebrows, he continued, 'One thing I do know, is that it remains very much in all our interests to see that it doesn't end in the foreseeable future.' Eye­brows lowered, heads nodded slowly. 'The so-called Armageddon sequence must be postponed for as long as possible. Indefinitely, if needs be.'

'But the viewing figures . . .' said Mungo.

'I am, of course, well aware of our dilemma. The viewing public is a fickle creature, it loves its heroes and hates its villains. Through the medium of constant re-runs it is also well aware of the story so far. Let's not pretend that we haven't tampered with the plot. We have, time and time again.'

'Out of the purest motives,' said Mungo Madoc.

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'Be that as it may. What I'm suggesting will come as a shock to some of you, but we are in a desperate situation. It's a somewhat revolutionary approach, but I think it will pay off in the long run.'

'Go on then,’ said Mungo, 'say your piece.'

'I'm proposing that we skip back one hundred years and change the plot.'

There is always a silence before the storm and indeed there was one now. When the ensuing storm broke, it was a real belter. Sheltering beneath an umbrella of facts, only known to himself, Fergus Shaman weathered it out.

'How?' said Mungo, when he was finally able to make himself heard.

'In the simplest terms available, we pick upon a popular character of the time, allow him to view the future, his own in particular, and offer him another chance.'

'Go on.'

'Well,’ said Fergus, 'back in the 1950s there was a certain Elvis Presley. Perhaps you recall him?'

'Big fat Northern Irish fellow, always shouting "down with the pope".'

'No,’ Fergus shook his head, 'that was someone else entirely.'

'Sorry, they all look the same after a while.'

'This Elvis Presley was a leader of the nation's youth. In 1958 he joined the American Army. Many historians agree that this was the downfall of his career. The expression "sold out" was one in popular use at the time. However, in my new scenario, Elvis refuses to take the draft. He is arrested and spends a short time in prison. But the outcry from the teenage population is so great, that he is soon released. He becomes a figure in American politics and in 1963 becomes president of the USA.'

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'I know this Presley,’ Garstang pipped in, 'he was a wally, by any account.'

'I have no wish to be flippant,’ Fergus replied, 'but I hardly see why that should affect him becoming president.'

Mungo chuckled. 'Sounds like a president in the grand tradition to me. But I don't see how this Presley can be held responsible for the events in the latter part of the twentieth century.'

'Simple politics,' Fergus said. 'If Presley had never joined up, nor would half a generation of the nation's youth. There would have been no war in Vietnam, the Americans being unable to raise an Army. You can't fight a really decent war without conscripts.'