Saturday 22nd August
-[And so our hero sets out again; though the word hero hardly applies to Janek Smith. We eventually tracked down the Heaton’s, the brother and sister he found refuge with. It was decided not to take any action against them. They had never told anyone about Janek, and they were valuable suppliers of real food. Besides what could we really have done to them, they were almost outside the system, an anachronism, but tolerated for the produce they unconventionally produced. Tesda, I understand, were particularly concerned that we do nothing to interrupt supplies.
But what had Janek learnt so far? Very little I suspect, unless it might have been the beginning of some sort of understanding, some glimmer that the world we had created may not have been quite as awful as he suspected. He did get to Hastings, travelling as far as we know by night. Hastings was once, many decades ago, a prosperous small coastal town, but it had fallen on hard times. There was no industry at all, and the old tourist trade had died years ago; nobody holidayed on the South Coast now, it was too cold and gloomy. The town should have died completely, but a small population of the un-strata-ed seemed to congregate there. Exactly how they survived was never clearly understood. It was a situation we tolerated because it caused no damage, and the Polis simply drove around mopping up any serious troublemakers, but mostly turning a blind eye to these vagrants and drop-outs. Until and unless they threatened anyone else it was cheaper to let them live and die their vicarious existence without hindrance. One day we might get round to sorting this problem out, but for now it was never a priority.]-