Suddenly ,from out of the Synthetic Music Box a Voice began to speak. The Voice of Reason, the Voice of Good Feeling. The sound-track roll was un winding itself in Synthetic Anti-Riot Speech Number Two (Medium Strength). Straight from the depths of a non-existent heart, „My friends, my friends!“ said the Voice so pathetically, with a note of such infinitely tender reproach that, behind their gas masks, even the policemen’s eyes were momentarily dimmed with tears, „what is the meaning of this? Why aren’t you all being happy and good together? Happy and good,“ the Voice repeated. „At peace, at peace.“ It trembled, sank into a whisper and momentarily expired. „Oh, I do want you to be happy,“ it began, with a yearning earnestness. „I do so want you to be good! Please, please be good and …“
Two minutes later the V oice and the soma vapour had produced their effect. In tears, the Deltas were kissing and hugging one another –half a dozen twins at a time in a comprehensive embrace. Even Helmholtz and the Savage were almost crying. A fresh supply of pill-boxes was brought in from the Bursary; a new distribution was hastily made and, to the sound of the Voice’s richly affectionate, baritone valedictions, the twins dispersed, blubbering as though their hearts would break.