PERSONAL COLUMN

The rainbow's end

SIAION RAVEN

Once upon a time—our own time—there was a widow woman who lived in a cottage in the middle of a loathsome fen. Her hus- band had died, out of sheer incompetence rather than any known disease, leaving her with three sons; and these she reared, to the best of her meagre ability, until they were old enough to understand the facts of life, which she propounded to them as follows: 'My sons,' she said, 'the fens hold noth- ing for any man except mud, damp, toil and incest; but I have heard, from my own mother and from hers before her, that there is gold at the end of the rainbow. I myself am now worn out with chores and child- bearing: so one of you must go forth and find this gold, in order that we may all become rich and go to live in comfort in Wisbech or King's Lynn.'

The eldest son, a dull-witted fellow called Tom, said that for his part he would pre- fer any amount of mud, damp, toil and incest to flitting about after rainbows, and that he would therefore stay at home help- ing his mother mind the chickens. (Perhaps he was not really so dull-witted after all.) But the two younger boys, twins of eleven years old called Dick and Harry, were fired by their mother's vision, and the very next time a rainbow appeared they knotted their bundles to their staffs in the traditional manner, kissed their mother goodbye, and set off after the gold which had been pro- mised them.

Before long they came to a large dike, on the other side of which was a wide, weedy and oozy fenland canal. Dick, who had inherited his father's ineptitude, immed- iately slipped down the dike and into the smelly water, whereupon he burst into tears and ran straight home, there to remain until this very day, sitting idle by the fireplace and complaining incessantly of the unmer- ited ill fortune which robbed him of his 'fair chance' in life. Harry, on the other hand, merely walked patiently along the dike until he found a bridge and then, on the far side of this, an awesome Palace of Cry- stal. Here he was made most welcome by the inmates, who explained to him that this was a place where he would be instructed in everything that he needed to know before resuming his journey. Such knowledge apparently included cooking, raffia work, art appreciation, creative play, social co- operation and even elementary techniques of sex; but when Harry asked to be taught foreign languages, since he knew by now that he must pass through many countries to reach the rainbow's end, he was met with bleak and uncomprehending looks. For his teachers, though hung about with many gilt- edged diplomas of education, didn't actu- ally know very much which they could teach, and certainly not anything as precise and demanding as the language of a foreign land.

Notwithstanding this, however, Harry prospered at the Palace of Crystal and was sent on, at the age of eighteen, to the nearby Palace of Cornelian, where he would gather yet further useful knowledge for his jour- ney. But at the Palace of Cornelian he was only taught to deride the free education which he was receiving, to insult those who were conducting it, to break into their offices and tear up the manuscripts which had taken them ten years of hard work, and then to sit there smoking their cigarettes in protest against the fact that the world (or so he was informed) was an unjust and unequal place. Being a good-humoured and sensible young man, he soon became bored with this foolishness, and asked, once more, to be taught the languages which he needed for his mission. This request was at once denounced as being 'irrelevant' and Harry was expelled from his Students' Association for showing 'lack of solidarity' —i.e. willingness to do some work. He was now advised to proceed to the Concrete City, where, he was contemptuously told, corrupt and self-seeking young men like himself might readily find employment.

The Concrete City (which not long before had been a fair township called London) was quite an easy place to succeed in, pro- vided one was prepared to spend the whole day loudly parroting certain fashionable maxims in everybody's hearing. Harry soon learnt this knack, and was shortly set to work writing feature articles, in which he proclaimed the virtues of all imbeciles, know-nothings, free-loaders and malin- gerers (i.e. 'aspiring humanity'), and casti- gated the vices of all honest men (i.e. 'cap- italist aggressors') who worked hard and paid the heavy taxes necessary for the mali- ingerers, etc., to live off.

All this, to be fair, Harry did with his tongue in his cheek, but he did it so con- vincingly that a well-known publisher com- missioned him to write a book about the underprivileged. This was a real drivelling lulu, called The People, Lord, the People, from which Harry made a great deal of money. Realising, however, that he would soon be rumbled (for to keep one's tongue in one's cheek for long requires great en- durance) Harry decided that it was time to make steps towards the end of the rain- bow; and he therefore drew all his winnings out of the bank (before the Inland Revenue could seize ninety per cent of them), stuffed them into his socks, and embarked at Con- crete City Airport.

Though he arrived safely in Europe, he had little luck with his rainbows. Whenever he saw one, somebody came up and de- manded the equivalent of £5 as the price for looking at it, so that he was too con- fused to take proper bearings on it with his compass. Nor did he fare much better in Asia. By the time he had wandered into the uncharted regions of Araby, his plight was sore. For in such country civilised curren- cies are not recognised, and travellers have always incurred the attentions of formidable monsters. Having been tricked by a genie into releasing it from a bottle, he was dis- turbed to see the creature grow to a height of one hundred yards, from which it looked down to announce that it was the Spirit of Equality and demanded to know how he dared insult the workers by his prolonged and pleasurable globe-trotting. Luckily, however, he was able to coax the stupid brute back into its container by persuading it that it was Inegalitarian' to strut round being a hundred yards tall; and after this, apart from being half deafened by the Envy Bird ( a kind of jackdaw, who stole the rest of his money by pecking it out of his pocket), he got on pretty well until he came to the Desert of Passing Youth.

Although this took many weary months to cross, it was not as dangerous as the Land of Welfare which lay beyond it. For in the Land of Welfare, he was told, all he need do was fill in a dozen forms, and he could then lie around full of lotus (no pres- cription charge) and rot in peace for the rest of his life. This temptation he resisted; and indeed, during the single night he re- mained in Welfare, he received a handy tip from a worn out explorer, now a lotus ad- dict, who dimly remembered the days of his pride and was just able to draw a shaky map.

So it was that Harry came at last to the end of the rainbow; and what he found was this. An old gnome in morning tails, who was sitting at a desk, rose courteously, amid the swirl of the spectrum, to greet him. There was no longer gold to be had at the rainbow's end, the gnome explained, or not, at any rate, for Englishmen, as their soci- alist government had forbidden them to possess it; but every man who reached him was entitled to a wish. This would be granted in the form of the gnome's guaran- teed draft, which was encashable by the traveller back in his home country. But first, said the gnome, he must see Harry's union card.

Union card? Yes; or other certification that he belonged to the Explorers', Adven- turers' and Treasure-seekers' Union (Earu). This, it now turned out, had been started some time after our hero left the Concrete City by a group of officious non-explorers who, driven mad with resentment by the 'individualistic' successes of Sir Francis Chichester and others, were determined that such activities should cease to be indepen- dent and should be brought into line with the 'modern democratic way of living'. In any event, no union card, no wish.

At this moment, a large coach drew up, displaying a prominent banner ... EAR'. Two dozen sweating and veiny-faced union- ists made a rush for the gnome's desk. where they started demanding Seats in Parliament, Literary Success, Ministries Beautiful Virgins and so on. As soon as they were all accommodated, the coach vanished over the horizon.

'That's what it's come to, you see', re- marked the gnome. 'Organised char:lb:oh trips. What they don't know, of course, 1, that their wishes are hardly worth the paper they're written on.'

'You mean ... the drafts won't be met?' Harry said.

'Oh, they'll be met all right. But they re just not worth having any more. In the old days, or even quite recently, very kis people got here, and so I could give ern something worthwhile. Rea/ fame: red power; marquisates and dukedoms if that what they fancied. But these days a life barony's about the best I can do.'

'You dished out at least two new minis- tries just now.'

'There are umpteen ministries alreads Two more will just make the whole system that much cheaper and shoddier.' 'Can't you do anything for me?' said Harry after long thought.

'Free repatriation,' said the gnome'. 'that's the best I can do for a non-unionist.

And a moment later, middle-aged. pen- niless and totally used up, Harry was hack in the cottage on the fen, listening to In' family's recriminations.