He shuddered and cuddled himself with evident pleasure. Trails of saliva appeared to roll down his chin.

The stench was a combination of mildewed food, mould and vermin shit. Rats scuttled for cover and daylight diminished in protest at the scene. I was indifferent: I neither gagged, nor covered my nose with my hand. I stood in a pool of rancid grey water. The fetid atmosphere could have been lily of the valley for all I cared.

I paused for a moment, unsure where to start. My senses were as keen as a whetted knife. I knew that rubbish could contain a golden nugget of information. In amongst the discarded pizzas, rotting food and soiled paper might be something which would enable me to make the news.

My search took me into the night. I paused only to buy a torch and a life-sustaining cup of sweet tea from a convenience store. After several hours I discovered a cache of bestial pornography. This was it! The hoard was interspersed with bits of paper which might identify its owner. Might it be a Minister’s? But the trail led nowhere. No matter, I continued with my mission.

Soon I was working at a frantic pace, oblivious to my surroundings. My clothes became soiled. I resembled the filth I was filtering through my hands. Sometimes, emptying a sack, I sat on the ground amongst its contents to sift its silent story. Bits of debris stuck to my clothes, hands and hair. I didn’t care, I was locked in my quest, a missile seeking its target.

Dawn was breaking when I made my discovery. Pure radiant light touched the alleyway, illuminating my stinking scattered triumph. I held in my hands a large sealed envelope. My heart began to palpitate. This was it – I felt sure. Who would seal an envelope unless its contents were secret?

I ripped it open. A packet the size of a small brick tied with string fell to the ground. As I illuminated it, my torch failed. I held up the package in the dawn light. A bead of sweat fell and smudged a photograph. I swept it clean, which made it worse. I got to my feet. Soon all would be revealed.

I made my way back up the alley. Within minutes I settled on the steps of our Parliament. A night watchman glanced at me as he passed. I noticed his disgust. He made a detour to widen the distance between us. Tramps, vagrants, the homeless always end up decorating the steps of our seat of power.

‘I looked down at the package and ran a finger over its surface. With a pull I unfurled the string. The brick was revealed to be a bundle of photographs. The juiciest pictures were of a voluptuous red head beating the naked Minister of Justice with a buggy whip.’

XIV
The Filth Factory

Tancredi sighed and ran a hand through his hair in tired defeat. Another planet, another example of self-defeating nihility.