"There are city maps in their rooms."

"But these are just kids!"

"They are college kids for the most part, and I am sure they will probably hang out in groups of two or more. And some might even want to hang out with us, unless we insist on treating them like children! Chill out, Steve! This is vacation time for all of us. Relax and enjoy it!"

Steve was too tired to put up an argument, so he went on to his room, but he was sure to protest again at lunch.

Travis approached Fred. "Can we get our subway pa.s.ses now, if we want them?"

"Oh? Too tired to make it to lunch?"

"No, I want to go ahead and use them, to go to Hyde Park."

"That's fine, as long as you can get back by 12:30. I'll be giving out some valuable information at lunch, so you might want to be there." He opened a manila envelope and gave him three subway pa.s.ses.

"I think we'll be back by then."

Travis, his Mom, and Drew were sharing the same room, so they went up on the elevator together.

"How are you making it so far?" he asked his Mom.

"I'm okay. Just a little tired. I'll be better once I rest a little."

"The jet lag has got everybody tired. But we should be recovered by tomorrow. The rest of today might be rough."

"I'll be okay."

"Here are your subway pa.s.ses. I plan to put my stuff up, then go out and try mine out. Anyone want to go with me?"

"Not me!" Lois said. "I think I can use a nap before lunch."

"What about you, Drew?"

"Sure, I'll go."

"All right. We'll put our stuff in the room, and go right out."

"What are you wanting to see, Dad?"

"Hyde Park. There is a corner of the Park that is called Speaker's Corner. Every Sunday morning, from sunrise until noon, there is something that happens there that I want to see. If we don't see it today, we'll miss it, because we will be gone back home next Sunday."

"What happens there?" Lois asked.

"It's like a public forum. Anyone can get up on their soapbox and express their opinion on any subject, without fear of prosecution. That is the only place and time they can do it in England."

"They don't have freedom of speech over here?"

"Yes they do, but not in the same sense that we do. At Speaker's Corner, anyone can say anything about anyone, or anything, and it doesn't even have to be true! It can be an opinion, a wild idea, outright slander, or obscenely vulgar. No one can be legally prosecuted in any way, for anything they say there, even if it is about the Queen Mother!"

"It doesn't sound like I would want to go there!" Lois said.

"In a sense, it is the purest form of freedom of speech. A lot of young people use it as a means to express their frustration with the established society. Communists, and other politically radical factions use it as a podium that to express their political views, in a country where they would otherwise be suppressed. It is a healthy forum for otherwise voiceless people to vent their anger on any subject."

"So what do you want to say, Dad?"

"I just want to see and hear what goes on there. I heard a British coal miner talk about it once, so I thought I'd go there."

They dragged their luggage to their room, where Lois picked her bed and sat down.

"Are your legs hurting?"

"My legs and back, but I'll be okay after I rest awhile. I wish I had some ice water."

"Drew, take the ice bucket and go get ice for your grandmother."

"Where is it?"

"Usually on the bathroom counter."

"I don't see one, Dad. But there is a small refrigerator in the bottom of the closet. There is an ice tray, but no ice."

"Fill the tray and put it back in. She'll have ice later."

"Wow! There's all kinds of other things in here! All kinds of sodas, and beer, and candy bars!"

"But it's not free. We'll have to pay for it when we leave."

"Is there a bottle of cold water in there?"

"Yep! Spring water!"

"Then bring it to me. I need something to take my medication with."

"I'm taking my camera with me, and my subway card. I don't think we'll need much more."

"What about money? We don't have any English Pounds."

"I have a credit card, in case we need it. Ready to go?"

"I'm ready, Dad."

"Let me make a phone call first, to Jester Books, just to let them know I am here, and see what they want me to do."

While Lois laid down to take a nap, and Drew continued to unpack, Travis figured out the phone system, and called Jester Books. He got a recording, which presented him with a menu of options, the last of which was to wait on a live operator, which he chose. A girl with a thick accent answered.

"You have reached the Jester Books answering service. How may I help you, please?"

"This is Travis Lee. I just arrived from America, and thought I should check in with whoever is in charge there."

"Good morning, Mista' Lee! Mista' Bagley will be glad to hear that you have arrived! Let me try to connect you with him at his home. This being Sunday, no one is in the office."

"I see. Is that Aaron Bagley?"

"Yes sir! Mista' Aaron Bagley is the President of Jester Books. Shall I get him on the tellie?"

"Yes, if you don't mind."

"One moment please."

"Thank you," he said, even though he knew she was already gone. It was a short wait.

"Mr. Lee! How are you this morning?"

"Aside from the jet lag, pretty good, Mr. Bagley."

"Good, good! How do you like England?"

"Fine, so far. I just arrived about two hours ago, from New York."

"Good heavens! You should get some rest!"

"I noticed that The London Times has 'The Relic' at #1 on the Best Sellers List."

"Yes, but that is no surprise! We have been selling it so fast that we can hardly keep up with the orders! Do you know that this is the first #1 seller in Jester Books history?"

"No, Mr. Bagley, I didn't know that."

"Please, just call me Aaron. I think we are going to be quite good friends in the future, particularly if you have another ma.n.u.script ready for publication!"

"As a matter of fact, I do, Mr. Bagley . . . I mean Aaron. Please call me Travis."

"Wonderful, Travis! What is the name of this second book?"

"Behind The Green Door."

"Is it as intriguing, and spine-tingling as 'The Relic'?"

"Those who have read it say it is even better!"

"Excellent! I can't wait to read it!"

"I hope I can get a better royalty deal than I got on 'The Relic'."

"Ah yes! I am truly sorry about the terms of that contract. As you know, I bought it from Ronald Fallon, at Maple Leaf, after his company went bankrupt. According to the wording of the contract, there was nothing owed to the author, under such circ.u.mstances."

"I know, and I can't complain. I signed the contract without fully reading and understanding it. But I won't make that mistake again."

"I am not that familiar with contracts in Canada, but from my perspective it seems that the way you were treated by Mr. Fallon was a bit underhanded, I mean by standards of how we do things in Britain."

"Yeah, his dealings were underhanded wherever you are from. He was a con-man, just plain and simple. But he got his reward."

"Yes, I heard of his demise. It seemed quite fitting, considering the way he had no regard for his authors. After all, it is you, the writers, who make fortunes for us all!"

"At least I was there when Fallon was killed. That was some consolation. I would have preferred to have done it myself, but someone beat me to it!"

"Well, I a.s.sure you, Travis, that we can make you a very good offer on your next book. Sometime while you are here, we shall sit down and talk about it over tea."

"I also saw the itinerary in the Times, of the five book signings I am expected to make."

"Yes, those are tentative, of course. We tried to coordinate them with the travel itinerary you sent us. Are there any conflicts with it?"

"Not that I know of."

"Good! If possible, you need to meet with our Coordinator of Author Affairs sometime later today, to discuss the details of the book signings. My daughter, Angelina is in charge of that. What about if I arrange for you to meet her for dinner this evening, at Jester Books expense, of course?"

"I suppose so. I don't know the dinner plans of my group, but I'm sure I can make plans for that."

"Good! I will arrange for a car to pick you up at say, six this evening, at your hotel. Where are you staying?"

Travis had to look on the desk writing paper letterhead for the name. "I'm at the Royal National Hotel South."

"Very good. A car will be there at six. I'm sorry to say that I will not be able to meet you in person today. I am about to go catch a train for Glasgow. I have a blasted wedding to attend there this evening for the son of an a.s.sociate. You know, one of those commitments that one wishes one could get out of, but can not! Nonetheless, Angelina will take very good care of you. She is quite competent."

"I'll look forward to it. When will I be able to meet you?"

"I hope to be back in time tomorrow for your signing at Borders in Piccadilly Circus. I should be there, since it starts at two."

"Then I will look forward to meeting you there."

"I think you will be surprised by the number of books you will be signing, Travis, so rest your writing hand!"

"I'll do that!" Travis laughed as he hung up, but he had no idea how serious Mr. Bagley was.

"Okay Mom, we should be back by lunch."

She mumbled something as they left. They rode the elevator down, and picked up a city map from the front desk, and were out the front door. The location of the hotel was marked on the map. Each subway station was marked on the map as well. "Okay, here is the nearest subway station to where we are, two blocks to the east. According to this map, there is a subway station very close to Hyde Park. Well, within five blocks."

"And where is this Speaker's Corner?"

"I don't know. It isn't marked on this map. We'll just go to Hyde Park, and ask directions. It shouldn't be hard to find."

It was still overcast and dreary as they neared the subway station. Drew saw a lot that interested him as they walked. The clothing shops, the convenience stores looked intriguing. Many of the products they sold were the same as in the U.S., but some things were different. A pack of cigarettes caught his eye. It was black, with a white skull and crossbones on the front.

"Death Cigarettes? Is that some kind of joke?"

Travis picked it up and read the package. "It says 'Death Cigarettes, for an honest smoke'. And listen to the disclaimer on the side. Instead of a Surgeon General's warning, it has this: 'Smoking does not make you s.e.xy, stylish, or sophisticated. It kills you. We are not selling a pack of lies, we are selling a pack of cigarettes. DEATH brand cigarettes, is a responsible way to market a legally available consumer product, which kills people when used exactly as intended.' And it is manufactured by the Enlightened Tobacco Co., of London. No, it doesn't look like a joke, because it's a real pack of cigarettes. Look, they even have DEATH in menthol."

"That is so cool! We ought to buy a pack, just to show people back home."