Read Online Something rotten by Jasper Fforde - Free Book Online

sports jacket and corduroy trousers.
    “Who’s that?”
    “Ernst Stricknene. Kaine’s personal adviser.”
    I stared at them both for a while and noticed that, despite being barely two feet from each other, they didn’t exchange a single word or look. Things in the Kaine camp were far from settled. If I could get close, I’d just grab Yorrick and jump him straight to one of Jurisfiction’s many prison books, and that would be that. It looked as though I had got back home just in time.
    I consulted the complimentary copy of The New Oppressor I had found on my seat.
    “Why is Kaine blaming the nation’s woes on the Danish?” I asked.
    “Because economically we’re in a serious mess after losing to Russia in the Crimean War. They didn’t just get Tunbridge Wells as war reparations but a huge chunk of cash, too. The country is near bankruptcy, Kaine wants to stay in power, so—”
    “Misdirection.”
    “Bingo. He blames someone else.”
    “But the Danish? ”
    “Shows how desperate he is, doesn’t it? As a nation we’ve been blaming the Welsh and the French for far too long and with the Russians out of the frame he’s come up with Denmark as public enemy number one. He’s using the Viking raids of 800 A.D. and the Danish rule of England in the eleventh century as an excuse to whip up some misinformed xenophobia.”
    “Ludicrous!”
    “Agreed. The papers have been full of anti-Danish propaganda this past month. All Bang & Olufsen entertainment systems have been withdrawn due to ‘safety’ concerns, and Lego has been banned pending ‘choking hazard’ investigations. The list of outlawed Danish writers is becoming longer by the second. Kierkegaard’s works have already been declared illegal under the Undesirable Danish Literature Act and will be burnt. Hans Christian Andersen will be next, we’re told—and after that maybe even Karen Blixen.”
    “They can pull my copy of Out of Africa from my cold, dead fingers.”
    “Mine, too. You’d better make sure Hamlet doesn’t tell anyone where he’s from. Shhh. I think something’s happening.”
    Something was happening. The floor manager had walked out onto the set and was explaining to us exactly what we should do. After a protracted series of technical checks, the host of the show walked on, to applause from the audience. This was Tudor Webastow of The Owl, who had made a career out of being just inquisitive enough to be considered a realistic political foil for the press but not so inquisitive that he would be found in the Thames wearing concrete overshoes.
    He sat down at the center of a table with two empty chairs either side of him and sorted his notes. Unusually for Evade the Question Time, the show had two speakers instead of four, but tonight was special: Yorrick Kaine would be facing his political opposition, Mr. Redmond van de Poste, of the Commonsense Party. Mr. Webastow cleared his throat and began.
    “Good evening and welcome to Evade the Question Time, the nation’s premier topical talk show. Tonight, as every night, a panel of distinguished public figures generally evade answering the audience’s questions and instead toe the party line.”
    There was applause at this, and Webastow continued: “The show tonight comes from Swindon in Wessex. Sometimes called the third capital of England or ‘ Venice on the M4,’ the Swindon of today is a financial and manufacturing powerhouse, its citizens a cross-section of professionals and artists who are politically indicative of the country as a whole. I’d also like to mention at this point that Evade the Question Time is brought to you by Neat-Fit ® Exhaust Systems, the tailpipe of choice.”
    He paused for a moment and shuffled his papers.
    “We are honored to have with us tonight two very different speakers from opposite ends of the political spectrum. First I would like to introduce a man who was politically dead two years ago but has managed to pull himself up to the second-highest