Tancredi closed his eyes in evident despair. Here was another stranger, another fake proposition to encounter. What would happen this time? Would his captor turn into a monster? Practise an inventive snow torture on him?

‘Let me speak, then you can judge,’ said his host, judging his reaction.

Cocomo had already heard his story.

‘Listen to him,’ she said.

A commendation from Cocomo was rare. Tancredi opened his eyes and studied the little man. Freed from his storm-proof clothing, he was dressed in a shabby tweed suit. Long hair flew randomly around a face whose tired eyes betrayed years of disappointment. His delicate features were those of an aesthete who had suffered for his art, his political beliefs or both.

‘You’re on Correctomondo,’ he began, ‘a planet dedicated to political correctness.’

Tancredi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Correctomondo! Whatever next?

‘I’m a dissident professor – I need your help.’

His eyes fixed on Tancredi, trying to create rapport.

‘You kidnap me and expect co-operation?’

‘On Correctomondo,’ replied the Professor, ignoring the question, ‘to refer to a woman as a woman is not permitted. It’s considered sexist.’

He brought a silencing finger to his lips.

‘Instead they are called “not men”.’

He smiled wearily at Tancredi, hoping he had fired some kind of interest.

‘For years, the planet has been governed by the Middle Way party. They are now being challenged by the Centre Way party. In clinging to office, the ruling party is implementing a programme of total political correctness. This will finally destroy us.’

‘What’s this got to do with me?’ asked Tancredi, warming himself by the fire.

He had escaped Earth to find a solution to its predicament, not to become involved in the politics of a far-away world.

‘Word of your exploits has spread. It’s said you champion thoughtfulness in a universe obsessed with the fast and simple. Correctomondo is idiocy personified.’

‘Why has your world become like this?’

The Professor had rehearsed the answer a thousand times.

Over time, changes in science, technology and welfare have transformed our planet. As a result the populace are lazier, ruder and less thinking than at any period in our history. They take their new privileges for granted, cling to entitlements, are quick to resort to the law. To slip on the pavement is a positive, because the authorities can be sued.

‘The effect on our politics has been devastating. Politicians no longer propose radical solutions to difficult problems for fear of causing offence. Every word they utter is calculated, every policy focus-grouped to death. Our leaders are now judged on who can appear the most reasonable, caring and correct. Facing reality and doing the right thing are considered negative. Power is based on who can occupy the middle ground.’

This didn’t make sense to Tancredi. Reason existed in consensual debate and shared thought.

‘But what’s wrong with the middle?’ he asked.

‘Middle is just another word for mediocre. We live in a world where respect and discipline have collapsed because they’re viewed as extreme. Crime is on the increase, law-breaking amongst youngsters out of control. The streets are no longer safe. The solution’s obvious – compulsory National Service. Imagine if a politician were to suggest this. He’d be branded a fascist.’