The Anthrax Mutation (v1.0), page 13
“From Comcent,” he spouted to Sir Joseph. “Rather bad news.” He thrust the paper into his hands.
Major Thomas caught Chadwell’s attention and signalled him over.
“You look worried, Chadwell.”
He sat down wearily in a chair Thomas had saved for him. “I am. London’s next, old man, and the PM’s just gotten it. The London-Edinburgh Express crashed at speed and the engineer’s got anthrax. They pulled—”
“Gentlemen,” began Sir Joseph. “If I may have your attention, please.”
He waited for the dozen of whispers to fade. There was a cough, some sighed wearily glancing at their watches, and others crumpled their hastily scrawled notes. It was too late at night or too early in the morning for most, and many had left grumpy wives behind.
“You have been summoned here on a matter of the gravest importance. No doubt you have heard the news and many of you have already been briefed by your respective Heads. I have here another message which makes our job that much more difficult. The train on which the PM was travelling has crashed and the authorities suspect anthrax is responsible. Wolverhampton and Watford have had two unconfirmed sightings—one each, that is, and I fear the Watford sighting puts the bats to within twenty miles of London.
“Our job tonight—regardless of these new developments—is to find a way of combating the disease before it gets a foothold in the country. I dare not think how badly the people will be hit before we can bring this killer down. It has already claimed the lives of two young boys, and I may say that they died in a church. This disease know no boundaries, gentlemen. It has no feeling for whom it kills or how. Our second responsibility is to other countries who may be directly or indirectly affected by the spread of the disease or by the bats themselves. We must consider what the international implications are, and we must be ready to assure our European allies that every possible precaution will be taken to inhibit further spread of anthrax.” He paused. “We are facing the greatest single threat to our country since the plague. At no time in our history has an enemy invaded England so swiftly and completely as have these bats, and for the most part undetected. It is all the more unfortunate that this enemy has come from our own soil, our own research, and those who will die will do so because of our mistakes. We must, therefore, formulate a plan of attack. We must devise a way of locating these bats, of curbing further spread of infection and of cleansing our country completely. We shall draw upon the resources of our own Nation and those abroad who are willing to help. We shall call back from overseas duty all military personnel if necessary. We shall put every soldier in the field and every pilot in the air. We shall spare no expense. Because we can’t. I must now say in conclusion that in the absence of the PM I have been instructed to assume control of these operations until the PM can appear personally.
“I would now like to ask Sir Godfrey to take over. I am sure our first objective is to learn as much about these creatures as we can.”
Sir Godfrey glanced up at the mention of his name, collected his papers and charts, and strode briskly to the front table. Sir Joseph took his seat next to the Major and Chadwell.
Toddler removed his spectacles and pushed an unruly lock of hair from his eyes. “We are dealing with a bat which is very common to all parts of the country. No doubt all of you have at one time or another seen such a bat. Under normal conditions we can predict the creature’s method of flight, its approximate length and pattern of flight and where it might conceivably seek shelter. But bats are different from any other species of flying animal in that they rely upon a form of sonar for guidance. What influence this time mechanism will have on their guidance system, and indeed what influence the disease will have once it has contaminated the bat will greatly influence the known predictions. I do not wish to appear pessimistic or alarmist, but we must be aware of what we are dealing with.” He replaced his spectacles and peered down at his papers. He looked up again. “I have been able to compute some quick estimates based on the latest sightings in, Wolverhampton and Watford. These, combined with the other sightings, already begin to form a kind of pattern—a three quarter circle. The maximum distance yet known is about two hundred miles. This in itself is a great distance for any ordinary bat to fly. In fact, it is almost unheard of, but we must consider the time mechanism which has possibly thrown the creature off balance. I should like to put forward the hypothesis that these bats were treated with a stimulant prior to their release. If the experiment were to take place in the morning, the technicians at Dwarf Hill could have easily injected many of the bats with artificial stimulants in an exercise to determine to what degree length of flight could be extended. This would then account for the great distance so far covered.”
Admiral Downing-Wright arose. “Excuse me, Sir Godfrey, but if what you say is true, and it looks quite possible, is it not proper to suppose that there are bats floating around in the Channel at this time?”
“More than possible. And I would estimate that a certain portion of these creatures has reached France and possibly beyond.”
The Admiral scrawled a hasty message and had a courier run it to Comcent. At the same time the Foreign Secretary caught Sir Joseph and they withdrew from the room.
“However, my job tonight is to give you facts and figures.” He held up a large picture. “This is your culprit. The order of Chiroptera. The wing span is approximately seven inches, sometimes greater. The wing itself is composed of a membrane stretched between the bones of its four fingers along its body to the tail. The method of flight is entirely dependent upon sounds which the bat emits as it flies.”
Sir Reginald Penn stood up. “Have bats ever been known to attack?”
“I presume you mean attack humans. Certain species will attack, but the British variety has rarely been known to molest humans. However, under the influence of the anthrax bacteria who can say what the variations of behaviour might be.”
“What do you feel is the absolute maximum any of these bats could fly before being brought down—or coming down voluntarily?” asked one of the scientists from Porton.
“That is a difficult question.” He replaced his chart on the table. “Entirely dependent upon the weather, period of darkness, whether or not the time mechanism has worked, what affect has the mechanism had upon the sonar, and of course whether or not an artificial stimulant has been used. However, for practical reasons I should estimate that a two hundred mile radius of flight would be maximum. One must remember that these bats will not fly straight, but weave and settle as they wish. Some will double back while others may carry straight on.”
Another Porton scientist arose. “Where would the bats most likely settle?”
“In barns, caves, lofts—all the traditional lodgings of bats. That’s if they survive to reach such a place.”
Major Thomas looked up. “We discovered a dead bat in Beckington earlier this afternoon in the back garden of a house. I think if the bats are contaminated in flight, they’ll drop anywhere.”
“Naturally, if the creature is forced to land, he will be indiscriminate.” He glanced around the room. There seemed to be no further questions. “If there are no questions, I would simply like to add that we do not know how many have escaped. There is not now and probably never will be any way of determining the number of bats, so selective decontamination is virtually impossible. What you gentlemen must work on- is an idea which will disinfect vast areas of the country. Without detailed knowledge of the behaviour patterns of bats infected with anthrax, without the knowledge of how many are or were flying about, well, precise calculations are impossible. I leave you with it, gentlemen. I believe Colonel Combs has requested to speak next…”
Colonel Combs needed little introduction among those who worked at Whitehall. His enormous frame and companion swagger stick had hounded the halls of government buildings for years—ever since his change of position from the military to military politics, and subsequent change of attitude. He was the Paisley of the armed services, and he was out to put himself as Number One regardless. The disaster had been playing right into his hands, and he knew if he could lick the problem of decontamination, Whitehall and Parliament would be his. His eager stride which carried him swiftly to the front of the Hall seemed too eager to Major Thomas, too much like the politicians in the White House and Congress. He felt uneasy in the hands of this overanxious hero, and he was not alone in his fear. Combs’ voice boomed out as his swagger stick thumped against his monstrous map. “I should like to put forward my plan of attack. My idea ties in well with what Sir Godfrey has established about the habits of these creatures. I want to organize a perimeter line using Harlech, Wolverhampton, Bedford, Southend, Dover and Bognor Regis (the latter of which barely survived the Colonel’s thumping stick) as what I shall call Safe Bases. Troops and supplies will be built up around these Bases and the area behind the perimeter line will be known as the Safe Zone, or non-contaminated. By stretching a line of men, machines and aircraft along the perimeter, the greatest possible area within the perimeter could be treated. It would mean a mass convergence, ever decreasing in size as the troops worked towards Lands End.” He missed Lands End altogether and punched a hole in Swansea. It went unnoticed.
Chadwell sighed and he began to realize that Combs was pushing everyone else out of the Club and assuming complete control. Major Thomas objected. “Colonel, do you not think that this plan—however effective—will take a great deal of valuable time?”
“Time, Sir?”
“Time. How long will it take to establish your men?”
“With the means at our disposal I should say we could deploy men and machines at each of the Safe Bases within twenty four hours.”
The Major continued. “What about the time you would require to reach Lands End?”
“I estimate seven to ten days doing a thorough job.” There arose a general stirring among the gathering and Sir Joseph reappeared.
“To expedite the actual operation, we could also position men at Lands End who would work towards the others. This might cut the time by a half. Not more.” Murry—who had just entered and pushed into a seat near the Major—was puzzled. “How would you treat the contamination?”
“Dr. Perry Marsh has found a powerful disinfectant formula which destroys the bacillus of anthrax. This could be mass produced by one or two of the major chemical companies and be ready for us in two days.”
“What about immunization?” Murray suggested. “Impossible,” sang out Marsh from behind. “Anthrax is a disease reasonably unknown in this country. Natural immunity is impossible and mass innoculation is also out. We just haven’t got the supplies.”
Combs was pleased that Marsh had unknowingly given his plan a boost. He was indignant that even a few speculated on the success of his genius.
Admiral Downing-Wright sounded bored when he addressed the Colonel, but he knew he had to defend his ships or Combs would have them as well. “My men are on standby at the moment. We could if necessary disinfect the beaches and coastal waterways at the same time as the ground and air forces are mounting their attack.”
Sir Joseph arose. “I think I should say here that the Foreign Secretary is talking with Paris at the moment. In view of the rising situation we must inform the Continental authorities of the danger. Furthermore, the PM is still missing.”
Lord Tenningly asked if each sighting might not be treated individually, moving in to disinfect large areas only when there is a suspected outbreak.
“Here, here,” someone shouted from the assembly.
Combs smiled. “As Sir Godfrey said earlier, selective contamination is out of the question. Before we can give the all-clear, we must be sure that every bat has been found and destroyed. Only tactics which I have described would in any way guarantee this.”
Sir Joseph walked to the front of the room. “I must agree with the Colonel. Whatever method we employ must guarantee safety from any further outbreak. Our trade, our industry and our people will depend on it.”
Dr. Marsh spoke. “We have little time to discuss how to tackle this problem; however, my colleagues and I feel that the Colonel’s idea is the best. The disinfectant which we have formulated will serve as the greatest surety against continued outbreaks. If the application is widespread, and if it is controlled, there need exist little worry about the disinfectant’s influence on people, animals or plant life. Any other method could not guarantee the comprehensiveness of mass disinfecting.”
“Has the disinfectant been developed—has anyone tested it?” asked Lord Tenningly.
“Not yet. We have it in formula, and I believe one of the chemical companies is working on a sample now.”
“I should like to have this matter in the hands of Colonel Combs and Dr. Marsh,” Sir Joseph began. “Could we not have them use Room 131?” A guard nodded from the doorway. “If you gentlemen could take this time to get a more definite plan on paper, we’ll carry on with things here.”
Colonel Combs seemed pleased enough with the idea and signalled for his staff to vacate the Hall. Dr. Marsh gathered his team and was followed out by Admiral Downing-Wright and the Air Vice Marshall.
Sir Joseph began again when the door had shut behind them. “Together with the Foreign Secretary and in the absence of the Prime Minister, I have drawn up the following measures. The Queen has declared that a State of Emergency now exists and I’m afraid we have overridden Parliamentary approval in view of the critical situation. England, Scotland and Wales are to be quarantined. All ports and air terminals will be closed to the public. No foreign vessels will be permitted to land unless it is an emergency, and no vessels will leave the country either by land or sea or air. The Royal Family has been taken to Balmoral until the danger is over. Parliament will remain in session and all MPs will find accommodation in London. Rail services are to be cut to a minimum and travel by the public restricted to only the essential. All postal services are suspended. I should also think that if the Colonel’s plans are accepted, there will be further quarantine restrictions imposed along this perimeter line. These orders are effective immediately, and Comcent is alerting those responsible for enforcing these restrictions at this moment. I have prepared a general statement for the press which is also being copied for release.
“Our next step is to prepare a report for the television and radio for this morning’s broadcast. I shall of course have to stand in for the PM, but I shall require your assistance in deciding how much should be released as general information. I feel, however, that we have little alternative but to reveal most of what has happened, and the plans which are now being formulated. I expect that other countries who might be contaminated will rely upon us for suggestions.”
A courier entered the room and looked about. He recognized Chadwell and found his way over. “Message for Major Thomas, Sir.”
Chadwell had been struggling to stay awake. He looked first at the messenger and then at Major Thomas. “It’s for you.”
The Major unfolded the paper, nodding as he read. “It’s from the Embassy. Washington is willing to do whatever possible to help. If the PM or Sir Joseph makes a formal appeal, I can request whatever assistance we decide is needed.”
Murray nodded approvingly. “If this disinfecting lark goes through, I think you might supply us with a few ‘^thousand bottles of Dettol and several million mops. Christ knows where Combs thinks all that disinfectant’s coming from. I use a whole bottle just to clean my bathroom floor.”
Chadwell huffed. “If you aimed a bit straighter, you wouldn’t need so much.”
“You better tell Sir Joseph that the Yanks are coming,” said Murray. “After the formal appeal of course.”
The Major heaved himself from his chair and walked up the aisle to the table. He lay the message down without interrupting Sir Joseph and returned to his seat. Sir Joseph stopped speaking long enough to glance at the note, and nodded towards the Major.
“I nearly forgot,” began Chadwell. “That message reminded me. I’m supposed to tell you that Murray said that Trevor is resting, but a bit done in.”
“That’s good, Chadwell,” Murray spouted. “We’ve got the world’s biggest communication center and you can’t even tell the Major what’s happened to his kid. The Lieutenant said she gave you the message hours ago.”
“She did. I forgot. You know as valuable as the lad is, Mr. Murray, the PM still comes first.”
“Yeah, yeah. Never mind. You know, Major, the best thing for the boy right now is if you’re around. Can’t you get away for awhile?”
“Does it look like it?”
Murray shook his head.
Chadwell was mumbling again. “Why don’t you bring him over here? Put him in Comcent Quarters.”
Murray scoffed. “With security as it is you wouldn’t get him past the doorstep. Who’s going to let a thirteen year old boy march around communications?”
“Even if I requested it?” asked the Major.
“Hang on,” Murray replied slowly. “There’s a special suite of rooms upstairs—reserved for the big wigs and all that. Sir Joseph could authorize it—medical reasons or some such lie.”
“Marsh wants a report on the gas effects,” Charwell offered sleepily. “And you know how Wilks wanted the kid. Say the lad knows all about it and he’s doing his term paper on it.”
Murray stood up. “I’ll see what I can do. If it’s’ all right, I’ll have one of my men pick him up first thing in the morning and bring him over. I’ll let you know which room he’s in.”
Thomas watched as Murray squeezed out of the stuffy room. A thick pall of smoke was clinging to the ceiling and he felt ill. He looked at the weary figure of Sir Joseph who was trying to organize a statement, but since Colonel Combs had left, the conference had broken up into smaller groups who were discussing the problem amongst themselves. Every so often a messenger from Comcent would appear with a folded message and Sir Joseph read the news with growing despair. The urge to escape spread over the Major again, and he longed for some fresh air. The room was growing smaller, the faces further away, and Charwell was nearly asleep. He poked him in the ribs. “Wake up, Charwell. How about a stroll?’*
