Read Online The Sentimental Agents in the Volyen Empire by Doris Lessing - Free Book Online

go to Volyen. And that’s all there is to it.’
    â€˜And,’ I prompted, ‘according to Krolgul of Shammat, you ought to remedy this by rising, though how this “rising” is to be done is not specified, and by murdering Grice the Governor-General? That’s it, isn’t it? And your troubles will then be at an end.’
    When they heard it stated like this, there was a stirring and murmuring among the men around Calder. Who stood up and said, for the benefit of invisible recorders and spies: ‘I have never said that, or anything like it, nor has any one of us.’
    â€˜No,’ I said, ‘but that has been the theme of certain recent speeches. And I have said that there might be alternative things to do. And I am prepared to put them forward.’
    And now Krolgul acted. He did no more than, as it were, murmur or remark to himself, ‘Greasy-guts Grice. Grice the Greedy.’ And remained seated, hands locked around his knees, smiling as if listening to some secret music.
    At this Incent stirred and came to himself. ‘That’s it,’ heshouted, or half-shouted, the smile that goes with his self-hypnosis back on his face, ‘Grice … Grim-guts … Greasy …’ And subsided again.
    â€˜Well, our young master has woken up, it seems,’ remarked Calder.
    Meanwhile, I had observed that straight ahead of where I sat, high on the brown wall, was reflected a pale patch where there had been nothing. A glance behind me and up showed a small opening above the throne of judgment, and in it was Grice’s face, as pallid, as sick, as suffering as it had been yesterday when he was listening to the oratory in the square.
    But so far no one else had noticed it.
    I said, loudly and firmly, ‘I will now make a short summary of what I think you might do –’
    But Krolgul was on his feet, in the posture of the worker’s emblem, and he was shouting: ‘Death to the tyrant, death to Grice, death to …’ And Incent had come to life again, and was standing there beside me smiling. ‘Death,’ he was stuttering, but his voice was gathering force, ‘death to the Volyen bully, death …
    Is it possible, Johor, that we sometimes
tend
– I put it no stronger than that – to overestimate the forces of reason? I emphasize here that Calder is a solid, sensible man, whose life is spent in exact assessments, judgments, in
measure.
    And certainly, as Incent stood there, swaying a little, still deadly pale but strengthening fast, Calder was smiling in a half-pitying embarrassment.
    I asked, in a low, calm voice, ‘Calder, am I to have my say?’
    â€˜If they will let you,’ said Calder, with a half-derisive, half-admiring laugh, and nodded at the two, Incent and Krolgul, in their heroic stances, chanting, ‘Death to …
    â€˜Only you can stop them,’ I remarked.
    Calder said, ‘Let him speak …
    Krolgul at once stopped, with a sardonic, contemptuousshrug, and sat down again in his familiar posture that managed to suggest a modest and unassuming personal worth and at the same time an ineffable superiority.
    Incent chanted on, until Calder half stood up and said to him, ‘Sit down, lad; let the opposition have its say.’ And Incent, gasping, sat, giving me appalled, apologetic looks, and then Krolgul looks of apology and of complicity.
    I said: ‘What you have to do is diversify your economy.’
    I knew this would be inflammatory, because of its simplicity and because it was unexpected.
    Volyenadna was a mining planet. That was what it was. That was what it had been, for as long as the history allowed by Volyen recorded.
    A silence. And then Krolgul allowed himself, first of all a long, silent heave of laughter, and then a burst of laughter. Now laughter from the Volyenadnans. From Incent, a blank, heavy look and a loose jaw. I was particularly concerned for