This has to be our last lecture tour, W. says. This has to be the last time, the last dog and pony show. We came here against our better judgement, it's true. We were invited, personally invited, and how could we refuse? Our trouble is, we're too polite, W. says. We want to please people, despite everything.
How will we survive? We need a rallying point, for one thing. — 'Look for a pub!' We need a place of safety, W. says. We need a panic room. A war room! And we need a general strategy. — 'Keep your head down! Talk to no one!'
Then we spot him in the foyer: the plenary speaker who W. recognises as an ally. How did they get him here?, I wonder. — 'Just as they got us. Through flattery', W. says. Suddenly we feel a great surge of tenderness. We have to protect him, we decide. He doesn't belong here. For one thing, he actually has ideas. He needs to be rescued!
We resolve to smuggle him off campus to a pub. We need to save him, the plenary speaker. To save thought!
And in the meantime? Be careful. There are enemies everywhere.
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