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The headquarters of Tolstaple, the federal outfit also known as the Inner Police, was in Telescope Tower, the tallest building at Ming Taxis, up in the north of the island of Glud Hurgus. Right at the top of the building was the Pearl Enclave, the penthouse suite from which Don Trash, the head of Tolstaple, ruled his secret police outfit.
As the aftermath of Egon Turow's glorst unfolded on TV, Don sat drinking whiskey in the company of Vicky Glark, his instrumental assistant, and Wi Carnaby, the Mayor of Glud Hurgus, the democratically elected ruler of the entire island.
The focus of media reports had already shifted from the glorst at the Garden of Innocent Smiles at Sekigahara, and the tragedy of Paffita Strong, which had earlier succeeded in winning the spotlight for all of sixty seconds, was slipping from memory. Baby Paffita was fast becoming forgotten. Not by her mother but by everyone else. Our meatiest crisis is just a small fraction of someone else's working day, the agony of a shattered tooth just one segment amongst many in the dentist's calendar.
The news of the moment was the firebombing of a restaurant on the island of Gorleth. This eatery had been in operation for ten years, trading under the name of Glorsting House, which advertized itself with the slogan "Eat till you burst!" In the current context, both the name and the slogan proved to have been ill-chosen, and the riot outside the restaurant, the riot which had led to the fire bombing, had been precipitated by the perceived outrage that the restaurant's name and slogan represented.
As Don and his drinking companions sat watching TV, the restaurant was still burning. The proprietors, a married couple by the name of Plingon, were missing, together with their adult son, possibly inside the burning building. It was not known if they were ethnically astral or not.
"I don't know where all this ends," said Wi, sipping his whiskey.
There were a number of astrals on Glud Hurgus. An uncomfortable number, in his opinion. All through his mayoralty the astrals had been a nagging source of worry, a potential cause of disruption. If he could have annihilated the whole lot of them with a single magic wish, he would happily have done so.
"I just wonder where this is all going to end," said Wi.
"I can tell you where it ends," said Don.
Then Don wargamed a possible outcome, suggesting that tough times were up ahead for the astrals.
"Everyone wants the astrals gone," said Don. "But nobody has the guts to do the logical thing, which is to kill the whole lot of them. But killing them all is quite possibly where we'll end up going."
Don paused to allow a comment. But neither Wi nor Vicky seemed to have anything to add.
"Mark my words," said Don. "This is coming. Extinction city. The logical outcome of the war on terror. Want an end to terrorism? Terminate the terrorists. It's that simple."
Meanwhile, on the TV screen, the riot was stil in porgress. From what they could see being broadcast live to the nation it seemed that the riot was, if anything, getting worse.
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