rr.armageddonthemusical-第4章

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　transmitters　and　getting　on　with　the　show。　And　the　rest；　like　it　or　like　it　not；　is　history。
　　　The　series　became　an　overnight　success。　The　Phnaargian　viewers　took　to　this　'everyday　story　of　simple　folk'　like　Teds　to　a　tapered　trouser；　and　The　Earthers　became　the　most　popular　series　in　the　history　of　the　universe。
　　　Now；　on　the　face　of　it；　this　might　appear　to　be　harmless　enough　stuff；　a　race；　hopelessly　addicted　to　television；　watching　the　exploits　of　another。　And　so　it　might　possibly　have　remained；　but　for　the　Phnaarg　viewing　public's　fanatical　craving　for　'a　bit　of　action'。　Much　against　their　better　judgement；　the　producers　of　The　Earthers　found　themselves　forced　to　help　things　along　a　bit。
　　　It　all　began　in　a　small　way；　with　fire；　the　wheel　and　language。　The　Earthers　just　didn't　seem　to　be　getting　the　hang　of　them。　And　as　the　series　was　now　running　prime…time；　there　seemed　good　reason　to　slip　all　these　into　one　weekly　episode；　to　get　the　ball　rolling。
　　　The　fact　that　this　was　done　has　always　been　vigorously　denied　by　the　producers；　as　have　suggestions　that　they　have　been　doing　likewise　ever　since。　Continually　tampering　with　Earth　history　to　keep　the　ratings　up。　The　Phnaargian　tabloids　have　made　scandalous　assertions　that　certain　popular　figures　have　been　'reincarnated'　over　the　centuries；　and　even　that　some　of　the　major　roles　have　been　played　by　Phnaargian　actors　dressed　up　to　look　like　Earthers。
　　　Whether　there　is　any　truth　in　this　isn't　easy　to　say；　the　producers　of　the　series　wisely　having　kept　the　precise　location　of　Planet　Earth　to　themselves　as　a　simple　precaution　against　nosy　parkers。　But　the　fact　that　next　week's　episode　of　The　Earthers　is　always　previewed　in　the　television　papers　should　be　enough　to　raise　the　occasional　suspicion。
　　　However；　by　the　Earth　year　2050　viewing　figures　on　Phnaargos　were　tailing　off　dramatically。　And　viewers；　miffed　that　their　favourites　had　got　the　chop　in　the　Nuclear　Holocaust　Event；　an　episode　which　achieved　the　biggest　ever　ratings　and　won　several　much…coveted　awards；　were　switching　off　in　droves。　The　idea　of　watching　a　rather　undistinguished　cast　of　scabby…looking　individuals；　whose　lives　apparently　revolved　around　watching　television；　was　of　very　little　interest。　It　was　so　far…fetched；　for　one　thing。
　　　And　so　it　came　to　be　that　on　a　May　morning；　when　summer　was　the　season；　the　executive　team　of　Earthers　Inc。　held　a　very　special　meeting。　The　boardroom　perched；　high　in　the　spiral　leafbound　plex。　The　Phnaargian　sun；　Rupert；　nudged　a　golden　ray　or　two　down　towards　the　broad　and　membraned　picture…window；　where；　tinted　to　a　subtle　rose…pink；　they　fell　upon　the　exquisite　table　of　Goldenwood　which　grew　in　the　centre　of　the　room。　The　room　itself　was　another　marvel　of　horticultural　architecture。　A　masterpiece；　designed　and　grown　by　the　leading　'hortitect'　of　the　day；　Capability　Crabshaw。
　　　Crabshaw's　current　passion　was　for　the　work　of　the　late　and　legendary　Vita　Sackville…West。　This　was　reflected　in　this　year's　boardroom　'look'。　The　chairs　were　the　product　of　painstaking　topiary　work；　performed　upon　box　hedges。　The　svelte　grass　carpeting　the　floor　was　sewn　with　thyme；　camomile　and　other　fragrant　herbs；　which　released　aromatic　essences　when　stepped　upon。　Acacia　Dealata　and　Aibizia　Julibrissin　flowered　in　weathered　terracotta　pots；　arranged　in　pleasing　positions　to　every　corner　of　the　room。　It　was　all　very　much　just　so。　But　whether　the　members　of　the　board；　hunched　sullenly　in　their　box…hedge　baronials；　had　any　appreciation　whatsoever　for　this　Sissinghurst　in　the　sky；　must　remain　in　some　doubt。　For　these　were　desperate　men。　And　he　who　had　the　most　to　lose　was　the　most　desperate　of　them　all。
　　　Mungo　Madoc；　station　controller；　surveyed　his　troops　with　a　bitter　eye。　Mungo　was　'Earthish'　to　the　very　nostrils。　But　for　the　greenly…dyed　mustachios；　waxed　into　the　six　points；　befitting　to　his　status；　and　the　extraordinarily　lush　three…piece；　clothing　his　ample　frame；　one　might　have　taken　him　for　an　Earthman　any　day　of　the　week。　Except　possibly　Tuesday。
　　　Of　the　executive　board；　little　can　be　offered　to　the　reader　in　terms　of　their　variance　from　established　Earth　type。　They　averaged　around　the　six…foot　mark；　some　corpulent；　others　of　that　lean　and　hungry　look　once　alluded　to　by　a　certain　Phnaargian　copy…writer　of　days　gone　by。　There　were　six　of　them　in　all；　and　a　right　surly…looking　bunch　they　were　too。　It　may　be　of　interest　to　note　that　while；　at　this　time；　all　media　on　Earth　was　run　by　females　of　the　species；　here　on　Phnaargos；　male　chauvinism　held　sway。　And　a　woman's　place　was　in　the　greenhouse。
　　　Mungo　tapped　his　trowel　of　office　upon　the　shining　table…top。　All　conversation　ceased　as　he　drew　breath　and　launched　straight　into　the　meat　of　the　matter。　'Gentlemen；'　he　said；　his　voice　having　the　not　unexpected　nasal　quality　of　one　addicted　to　the　pleasures　of　orchid　sniffing；　'gentlemen；　we　are　in　big　schtuck　here。'　
　　　Executive　heads　bobbed　up　and　down　appropriately。　At　the　far　end　of　the　table　Diogenes　'Dermot'　Darbo；　naturally　bald；　but　resplendent　in　a　vine…hair…toupee　said；　'Yes；　indeedy。'　
　　　'Viewing　figures　have　sunk　to　a　point　beneath　which　even　the　Fengorian　Flatworm　might　find　squeezing　a　somewhat　hazardous　affair。'　There　were　some　nervous　titters　amongst　those　few　who　hadn't　heard　the　remark　before。　'And　so　I'm　holding　this　special　council；　that　you　may　favour　me　with　your　propositions　for　the　revitalization　of　the　series。'　
　　　Mungo's　team　made　encouraging　faces。　But　nobody　spoke。
　　　'You　will　offer　me　your　proposals；　I　will　mull　them　over　and　almost　upon　the　instant　decide　who　remains　on　the　team；　enjoying　all　the　privileges；　and　who　seeks　new　employment　turning　post　in　the　nursery　beds；　enjoying　the　fresh　air。'　
　　　The　heads　remained　nodless　but　the　brains　within　them　pulsed　with　activity。
　　　'I'　m　waiting；　gentlemen。'　
　　　Hook…nosed　Gryphus　Garstang　rose　tentatively　to　his　feet　and　raised　an　arm；　gorgeously　encased　in　spring…flowering　cyclamen。　'What　do　you　say　to　another　war？'　he　asked　brightly。
　　　Mungo　Madoc　eyed　the　young　man　almost　kindly。　'Another　war？'　said　he；　tucking　a　soft　green　sapling　behind　his　left　ear。　'If　it　hadn't　been　for　your　brilliant　concept　of　World　War　Three　to　celebrate　the　arrival　of　the　twenty…first　century；　we　wouldn't　be　in　this　mess　now。'　
　　　'I　seem　to　recall　that　being　a　corporate　decision；'　Garstang　replied；　rattling　his　foliage　in　an　agitated　manner。
　　　'And　I　seem　to　recall　you　insisting　that　you　accept　the　TV　awards　at　the　celebration　dinners。'　
　　　The　hooknose　reseated　himself　as　Mungo　continued；　'Garstang；　you　have　been　on　the　team　for；　how　long　is　it　now？'　
　　　'One　hundred　and　eighty…seven　Earth　years。'　
　　　'And　during　this　short　period　there　have　been　no　less　than　three　world　wars。'　
　　　'They've　been　very　popular　with　the　viewers。'　
　　　'That's　as　may　be；　but　it　surely　can't　have　escaped　your　attention　that　the　Earthers　are　a　little　hard…pressed　for　weapons　at　the　moment。　What　do　you　suggest　they　do；　sling　food　tins　at　one　another？'　
　　　Gryphus　Garstang　maintained　a　sulking　silence。
　　　'I　think　we　should　go　for　the　love　angle。'　The　voice　belonged　to　Lavinius　Wisten；　a　pale　willowy　wisp　of　a　man；　with　the　bearing　of　a　poet　and　the　sexual　habits　of　a　Fomahaunt　Marshferret。　'Passion　amongst　the　shelter…folk。　My　team　and　I　have　e　up　with　a　scenario　in　which　two　proto…embryos　bee　separated　accidentally　at　the　sperm　bank。　They　grow　up　in　separate　shelters；　then　meet　and　fall　in　love；　finally　to　discover　that　they　are　twins。　I'm　also　working　on　the　possibility　that　they　have　a　genetic　mutation　that　makes　them　immune　to　radiation。　They　leave　the　shelters　and　repopulate　the　Earth。　I　thought　we　might　call　it　Earth　Two；　The　Sequel。'　
　　　Mungo　Madoc　sank　into　his　chair　and　made　plaintive　groaning　noises。
　　　'Well；　I　think　it's　got　everything　going　for　it。'　
　　　'But　it's　not　in　the　plot。'　
　　　'We　could　weave　it　in。'　
　　　'Weave　it　in？'　Mungo　raised　himself　up　to　an　improbable　height　and　blew　exquisite　pollen　from　his　left　nostril。　'How　many　times　must　I　remind　you　that　this　series　has　an　original　script？'　
　　　'Oh；　that　again；'　said　Garstang；　and　immediately　wished　he　hadn't。
　　　'When　our　founder　drew　up　the　original　script　f