In the early morning rush-hour yesterday not one other soul stepped off the train at Greenwich North: this architectural wonder of a new tube station was empty. Under a wide, windswept sky the dome's great peninsula on the Thames lies deserted. Richard Rogers's iridescent jellyfish hovers there as dazzling as ever with its jutting yellow masts, a famous London landmark now. Forget its hollow contents - at night with the lights playing on the roof, it was as romantic and magical a sight as any in the capital. From the air foreigners arriving lean over and point to it in delighted recognition. But there are now only two weeks left before the government sells it off at a knock down price to the first company willing to take it off its hands fast. The dome is synonymous with disaster. Misfortune, miscalculation, mediocrity and mistake marked its miserable life so far. What government wouldn't want to be rid of it before an election? Even now, further revelation of the Mandelson/Hinduja connection rips another hole in the dome's reputation: the raising of 1m for the abysmal faith zone returns to haunt the place. The National Audit Office looms, scrutinising everything that was done and not done as lottery millions poured in month after month last year.  Robert Bourne's Legacy bid itself is tainted by a fat donation given by him to Labour party funds and a big birthday party thrown for Peter Mandelson. The place is a haunted political graveyard. No wonder they are eager to privatise it quick. But that would be the last and worst mistake of all.  After Nomura pulled out of its plan to keep the dome as a public theme park, Robert Bourne and his Legacy consortium seemed to be all that was left. So they got "preferred bidder" status, allowing them to continue negotiating without competition. Their bid is for a "hi-tech business park", which means filling the dome with modern offices. Their spokesman speaks of "major IT companies, professional services, lawyers, accountants and academic institutions" who have expressed an interest in moving in. Some of them will have technology on display for members of the public interested in viewing their products. Otherwise it will be closed, a private space for ever.  Once sold off, there will never again be a chance to keep this beautiful building on the one of the most dramatic London sites as a public leisure, exhibition and entertainment centre. It has - at great cost - the best transport links, including the river. The leisure industry, say the economists, is the future. London has no other space like it, desperately short of good concert venues compared with every other European capital. The dismal dinge of Wembley Arena, Earls Court or Olympia can't begin to compete with either the glamour or ease of access of the dome. Pop and mega-classical concertgoers, along with sports fans, have always   had to suffer miserable journeys and horrible conditions. Here, already paid for by us, is a place with every comfort and facility. Don't let them sell it off.  PY Gerbeau, until last week the dome's ebullient chief executive, thinks it can be saved. He had to stay silent until his contract ended, but by then Legacy had its peculiar "preferred bidder" status: his case may never be put. He has a major financial institution backing him, he has done the sums - and he knows the costings well. The government is full of praise for the way he stemmed the haemorrhage of money from the dome in the final months.  But will they listen - or will they hasten to be rid of it to Legacy? PY plans to run it as a visitor attraction in the day with the present contents enhanced: in the evenings it will be a concert and sports venue. He will build a hotel and conference centre and use the land around the dome as a village of themed restaurants and attractions - no housing or offices. He claims he will get 3m visitors a year and make a profit after two years. He will even offer the government more money than Legacy's timid 50m up front and 100m later. But he needs the attractions inside - especially the dazzling body zone sculpture (one of the few things of beauty). However, along with other key zones, the body will be demolished in two weeks. Will the government stay its hand and consider the PY bid?  The government is now legally bound not to even speak with other bidders. It says it must consider whether Legacy is the best value. But how is that judged without considering alternatives, and above all the public interest? The public has punted up the cash and must have an interest in keeping this great national asset for their own pleasure: 150m is peanuts compared with the near 1bn already spent, when the dome could be secured as a public amenity for ever.  The key to all this is property value. Hotly though they deny it, there is a canny suspicion that the Legacy bid will end up as a property deal. The invaluable land around the dome will be developed, the "hi-tech" park within may never quite materialise, never quite find all these tenants it promises. Unused, the dome would dilapidate until someone someday makes a fortune out of the land it stands on. Like the non-development of Battersea power station up-river, glittering promises from developers are not always all they seem. But even if Legacy does all it says, it still shuts down a public place.  Gerbeau's scheme also buys the site, but at least he keeps it as a public space (sale conditions should insist on that in perpetuity). Better still, PY would be quite happy to rent the dome for a fixed number of years which keeps open the option of returning it to public ownership at some future date - if ever an Olympic or World Cup bid required it. The land around is so valuable some could be sold off to create a trust fund for the dome's future. There are much more imaginative ways of saving the dome than selling it off in a hurry to Legacy. By now that will also be the worst political option, the one most likely to dog the government at the election: added to the breath of sleaze will be a grotesque mishandling of a priceless public asset.  Politicians always lag behind the public mood, out of fashion, fighting old battles instead of facing future challenges. This government's 90s mindset still wrestles with clause 4 versus privatisation - dead ducks both. Money is poured into Railtrack in exchange for nothing at all, as if afraid that buying back shares in it is socialism incarnate. They are still trying to sell off the tube and air traffic control against passionate public opposition. Now they want to sell off one of the finest heritage sites in London, just as the Tories very nearly sold off half the National Gallery - saved only by Sainsburys. Mrs Thatcher left behind no monuments but despite its accursed first year, Tony Blair might live to be proud of this one yet.