Monday 3 October 2011

A Steady Surrender

“Would Inspector Sands please go to Platform 6. Inspector Sands to Platform 6.”

“Fire.”

“What?”

“That means there’s a fire. Platform 6. A fire.”

“Did he say fire?”

“Shouldn’t there be an alarm?”

“No. Protocol Z states that alarms only be sounded when the flames have spread over at least three platforms.”

“What the hell are you talking about? That’s ridiculous”

“It’s not. If alarms were triggered at every sight of flame the tubes would barely run.”

“Don’t be stupid. Fires hardly ever break out. There’s barely any fuel for a start.”

“Actually you’re wrong. You’ve been sold a lie. Don’t feel bad; most people bought it. Fires aren’t just common, they’re constant. Have you ever noticed how hot it gets in the tunnels? You really think that’s down to body heat and crap ventilation? Fire my friend. Believe. They won’t tell you because it would bring the country to its knees. London is burning or, at least, London is being slowly barbequed. Fifty metres below the tube at most points there are further tunnels, miles and miles of them laid by kings and emperors, cardinals, masons and crooks. The ground below us is hollow as honeycomb, and burning. The Great Fire my friend, the Great Fire was never extinguished. Short of flooding the whole damn place there is nothing to be done. The powers that be made a decision: Funnel most of the fumes into the Channel and keep mum. The powers that be? I wouldn’t know that mate. I’m not the type to speculate.”

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