He looked at me. “Steve, I just need to take some readings from you; the baby shares your DNA too, so it will make the results much more accurate. This is especially important as it is such an early pregnancy.”
“Ok Doc, anything to help.”
“Hold out your hand.” I thought it strange, but offered him my left hand anyway. The doctor scanned it with his monitor and thanked me.
Let’s check junior now,” he said, turning to Anna. He made a few adjustments to the scanner, passed it over her stomach and continued speaking. “Good, good. It is a single embryo. You are about six weeks pregnant and he or she is very strong and healthy. I do not detect any abnormalities. You are both doing fine.”
“Thank you Toren,” said Anna, very relieved to hear the news.
I accompanied Anna to the vortex room and kissed her goodbye, telling her to take it easy, then made my way to Dad’s office where he was eager to share some news.
“Well at least we have some good news in the midst of this crisis. As you are aware, all Jumpers should be infertile until they jump past the fifteen thousand year threshold.” I nodded. This point had concerned me too. Dad continued, “Nevertheless, Anna is six weeks pregnant. We had to check the baby was yours because, as you know, it should have been impossible for you to father a child at this time. I didn’t doubt Anna, but Section wanted proof that a Jumper had become fertile. This was the real reason for your DNA test. I discussed it with the other researchers and we are in agreement that the extra jumps you’ve been on have brought about this premature ability to have children.
“So will our child have jumping capabilities?”
“It’s too early to tell, we’ll need to run tests when he or she is old enough. The only other Jumper who’s been on as many jumps as you is Gemma. We’ll have to warn her about this; she might need to use birth control.
“Now about the anti-virus. C and I have been in a meeting with Section Directorship most of the afternoon. This is a very serious matter. The remaining vaccinations have all been recalled and analysed. They’re definitely of a different chemical composition to our anti-virus, which was clearly intercepted and switched for this lethal concoction.”
The intercom buzzed summoning us to a meeting in the Hub. We took a short cut across C’s rose gardens, where he came to relax, but still found that thirty or more people had arrived before us, including Zee and several of the researchers I knew had worked closely with Dad since the beginning of the project.
C was clearly very stressed. He thumped his fist on the table. “Whoever did this knew what they were doing,” he raged. “They must have had access to the anti-virus soon after it was developed, and created a mutation. This wasn’t confined to the UK either. Hundreds of thousands of young people and children have died worldwide, including many of our Jumpers. There have been deaths on every continent.”
Everyone sat in shocked silence for a few moments, then the researcher next in seniority to my father, a well-groomed man in his late fifties, spoke up, “It would take a genius to crack the chemical coding of the anti-virus and create a mutation that kills people as efficiently as this.”
Zee spoke, “Well we have many of those. The Jumpers have the highest I.Q.s on the planet. And we created them, so indirectly we created the problem ourselves.”
C continued, “This is the work of Earthsong. We should never have trusted them. They’re still working against us; they knew they couldn’t kill the rest of the Jumpers, so they switched the first public anti-virus batch.”
Zee spoke again, “Section Directorship are also certain Earthsong were behind this; hijacking the anti-virus supplies in all those countries was a huge undertaking. The inoculations couldn’t have been swapped at source as they were all checked on receipt at the distribution centres in each country. The Directorship is certain the Rebels haven’t recruited any new members from the Jumpers. They must have recruited sympathisers from amongst the rest of the population.”
“And they could find many more now,” added C. “Incidentally, A statement from the Prime Minister is being broadcast around the world tomorrow. In regard to the anti-virus, the people have a right to know what is going on. For now, all we can do is make sure this doesn’t happen again. We’ll tell the world a faction was behind the mass killings, and hopefully convince everyone to have the vaccinations when the new batch is ready.”
Zee was standing at the front of the Hub, “I have one more edict from the Directorship,” she said. “All known rebel Jumpers are to be rounded up and confined at a secure location until we can ascertain their part in this.”
C agreed, “That’s no problem. We can transport them straight to the designated location using vortex technology.”
Dad stood up and looked at C.
“May I ask something?”
“Go ahead.”
“Are there any contingency plans in place should the bodies of today’s victims be found to be contagious?”
“The bodies have been isolated as a precaution, although there have been no reports of the virus, or whatever this is, being passed from person to person. We’ll keep you informed,” C answered. “Everyone’s done everything they can for now so get some rest and we’ll address the matter again tomorrow.”
Unable to think of anything constructive to do or say to help, I returned home to Anna, stepping from the vortex into our spare bedroom.
As I walked across the landing I heard voices coming from downstairs, so I nipped into the bathroom, splashed water on my hair, then walked down to join everyone. George and David were watching a television broadcast with Anna.
“Sorry about that,” I said, “just having a shower.”
“What do you make of all this?” asked George looking up at me and ignoring my explanation for not being around when they arrived.
“It’s tragic.” I answered him, “to think that someone tampered with the anti-virus jabs and caused all this suffering. Who do you think it was?”
David answered me, “They say it might be germ warfare. It could be some faction with a grievance against the Western World. I’m glad I decided not to have it.”
“You’re right,” said George, “I said it was a waste of time. We don’t see too many people up here, and, as I said, I never get flu very badly anyway. Anna, don’t you go having any flu jabs, especially with my first grandchild on the way.” He stood up and turned the television off. “Well Steve, you now have a use for that spare room.”
“Sorry?” For a moment I wondered what he meant. I used the spare room to transport in and out of the cottage by vortex. He couldn’t possibly have found out about that could he?”
“A nursery lad, what’s wrong with you? You’ll be needing a nursery for my grandchild.”
“Yes, sorry George, my mind was still on that news article.”
__________
After waking much too early the following morning and being unable to get back to sleep, I quickly made my way downstairs, sat in the living room, and checked my tab-phone. The Internet was alive with the events of the previous twenty-four hours. Like David, many believed that some faction was trying to attack the Western World, while others were saying the World Leaders had made a huge error and the anti-virus hadn’t been tested properly.
The father of the twins, whom I’d seen on television the previous afternoon, was leading a protest demanding an explanation for the deaths of his family. His wife had died during the night and he was very angry.
Red eyed with grief, he spat his words through his teeth, pounding his fist on the table in front of him, “We demand the truth, our children are dead. My wife and my girls are dead. They suffered like no one should ever suffer. You made a mistake with that anti-virus.” Pausing, he glared into the camera and yelled, “Admit it!” Then taking a deep breath and trying to compose himself added, “If you agree with me click ‘join’ and send this link to your friends. I checked below the icon, he had over a million hits and the number was growing by the
second.
I hoped today’s official announcement would help calm public feelings. I checked my inbox; Dad had sent me a link to another newscast. There were riots and public demonstrations in every developed country. I tuned into a twenty-four hour news channel that was showing coverage of the previous nights mayhem in London, Paris and New York. Suddenly the words ‘News Flash’ ran across the bottom of the screen and the image of the British Prime Minister, Jeffery Ash, appeared, the stress of the disaster etched on his face, making him look much older than his forty-nine years. As usual he was immaculately dressed, his short, dark hair brushed back at the sides.
“Citizens of the United Kingdom,” he began, “I join you in your grief for your loved ones and the youth of this country and the world. I too lost loved ones to this tragedy: three grandchildren and two nephews who meant the world to me. The anti-virus had been tested extensively and had proven most efficient in protecting humanity from the forthcoming deadly super-virus, whilst at the same time being completely harmless to mankind.
However, some immoral faction tampered with the first batch, the result of which we know too well. Be assured that I will do everything I can to bring these people to justice and will keep you all in full knowledge of the facts.”
The picture cut from the broadcast and the words ‘This broadcast will be repeated on all channels throughout the day’ appeared on the screen. A live programme followed showing the reactions of the common people.
A young mother who had lost a child spoke through her tears saying it was disgusting, and that politicians always lied to cover up their mistakes. Several other people, including a grandfather who’d lost a son and two grandchildren, echoed her sentiments. Only one person supported the view of the government and he seemed nervous to admit what he thought.
Another television channel showed a riot in full swing in Birmingham. Petrol bombs were being hurled through shop windows and cars rocked until they rolled onto their sides. Police tried to hold back the crowds with riot shields but were beaten back as the rioters broke through, pelting the officers with bricks and other blunt objects.
“The world has gone mad,” I said aloud as Anna walked into the room in her dressing gown and slippers.
“That’s because its children have been murdered. I’d feel the same way.”
She had a good point. Section had to make sure the right people were exposed and brought to justice. Unfortunately this wasn’t going to be an easy task, and if people were ever going to trust the anti-virus they had to believe the truth.
I dropped Anna off at George’s farm and got her to promise she would stay inside and wait for me: I didn’t want her going into town and getting caught up in a riot. Then I returned to our cottage to await the vortex.
Vanessa looked up from the vortex interface as I arrived, she was much colder towards me than on our last encounter and said flatly, “They’re waiting for you in the Hub.” I nodded in acknowledgment, relieved that she’d probably got the message that I wasn’t interest in her, and quickly made my way to the meeting.
All the usual people had already arrived, including C, my father, several technicians and genetic scientists, the other Primary Jumpers, and, to my surprise, Jeffery Ash, the Prime minister.
C was saying, “We are in a very volatile situation. The future of humanity is at stake. We have the ability to save everyone, yet the enemy has infiltrated our ranks, taken the true anti-virus, and exchanged it for what something that brought death to hundreds of thousands across the world. Our children and young people came forward to receive a vaccination they believed would save their lives from the impending super-virus, but instead had death injected into their veins. They are gone now and we can’t do a blasted thing about it, but we can offer the true anti-virus and life to all those who will accept it.
“The enemy has sown seeds of doubt in society’s mind, exactly as they planned to do. Some think the vaccination unnecessary, others think it a conspiracy of some kind with ‘the powers that be’ trying to kill our young people. Many more are simply scared to try it.” C was exhausted and looked as if he hadn’t slept all night, which was probably the case.
The Prime Minister stood up, walked over and stood beside him. “This is where I can help,” he said, solemnly placing his hand on C’s nearest shoulder. C looked surprised as no one usually dared invade his personal space, but he said nothing. Jeffery Ash continued, “This is a secure meeting as you know, and nothing spoken of in here must be repeated to anyone outside this room.” Everyone agreed wondering what he was going to say.
Despite the unrest and pressure of the last thirty-six hours, Mr Ash presented as immaculately dressed in a very expensive, grey suit with white shirt and blue tie. He continued speaking, “When we’ve allowed the world time to grieve, it’s vital that we regain its confidence in the anti-virus. As a member of Section Directorship, I have been aware of the possible forthcoming annihilation of the human race and the Jumpers’ programme for many years. I believe in the anti-virus and the need for every member of the human race to have it administered, so I volunteer to have the first shot from the next batch on national television. After all, we cannot expect the nation to do what we ourselves are not willing to do.”
Zee nodded in agreement, “Thank you Sir, it will be arranged.”
____________
Two weeks later, when the rioting had ceased and the world’s dead had been buried, Jeffery Ash sat in front the television cameras for a live broadcast. The programme was being televised worldwide via satellite links. The nation and most of the countries of the developed world tuned in to watch, still raw from the shock of loosing loved ones.
Anna, George, David and I sat in George’s living room ready to watch the debate on his large flat-screen television, each with a mug of tea and a supply of chocolate biscuits to hand. I anxiously took a biscuit and nibbled it while I waited for the broadcast to begin.
The credits rolled and the camera showed a wide-angle shot of the studio audience, before zooming in on a very attractive lady presenter who welcomed everyone to the programme and explained what was about to happen.
Mr. Ash, this time wearing a dark Italian suit with light grey shirt and charcoal tie, sat behind a large, executive desk with a panel of professionals: a middle aged doctor, a professor of medicine and tropical diseases, a psychologist, and Martin Haliday, the man who had lost his wife and twin girls. Mr. Haliday’s subsequent rant about the deaths of his family had gained him a huge Internet following, so the media had invited him to participate in the debate as representative of the bereaved. People needed to feel someone was on their side and this was one man they had no reason to mistrust.
The professor, who looked too young to be so highly qualified, launched into a concise explanation about the need for the anti-virus. For the first time the populace heard about the Frumscyld-Ábitan super-virus travelling from deep space and invading our world, and the effects it would have on anyone who didn’t accept the inoculation.
The presenter, Angela Durham asked the panel, “How can you be so certain that we all need the vaccination? Flu vaccinations are normally only offered to the elderly and people with underlying health problems.”
The young professor answered, “Although Frumscyld-Ábitan gives flu-like symptoms it is essentially quite different and must not be confused with influenza. Obviously, the young and vulnerable will be offered the anti-virus at first, but be in no doubt; this virus is deadly. None of us can afford to be complacent. With the whole world to vaccinate, we need to get started as soon as possible.”
Angela turned to Jeffrey Ash, “Prime Minister, what happened to our children and young people two weeks ago in what the press are now calling ‘The 6:8 Tragedy’?”
Adopting his usual authoritative manner he answered, “So named because it happened on the sixth day of the eighth month of course. A rival faction, known as Earthsong, believes mankind is inherently evil and has been destroying nature … and this is natu
re’s way of restoring the balance. I agree that mankind has abused nature in the past, which, of course, was very wrong, but many of us, including our own government, now have programmes in place to encourage nature and work along side it.
“All anti-virus supplies were closely guarded throughout distribution, and double checked at their destinations. However, after these checks had been carried out Earthsong managed to infiltrate the security firms and swap the vaccinations for their own lethal injections.”
Miss Durham asked, “So how can we trust the next anti-virus batch? Why would I let my teenage daughter have a vaccination?”
“All Earthsong members are now in custody at a secure location. They will not be able to tamper with future shipments.”
“So Mr. Ash, how confident are you that we can go ahead and receive our protection from the super-virus.”
“I would stake my life on it, in fact I am willing to do that right here, right now.”
Jeffery Ash stood up, removed his jacket and rolled up the shirtsleeve on his left arm, then walked over to a high backed leather chair and sat down. “I volunteer to be the first to have the vaccination from the new batch.”
When the clapping and cheering of the studio audience had subsided the panel doctor spoke into the cameras, “In a moment, Chris Sutton, a medic from Saint John’s Hospital, Winchester, will bring in the vaccination. The viewers will see him test it for authenticity and to make sure it’s safe. After this I will administer the injection to Mr. Ash myself.” Turning to the Prime Minister, the Doctor smiled and continued, “Afterwards we will continue our debate while closely monitoring our subject here.” The smile was quickly returned and the doctor added, “This will prove to the nation, and the world, that the vaccinations are safe.”
He nodded to the medic, a tall, lean man in his early forties, who had been standing just out of camera shot. The medic walked onto the set holding a small white box in front of him. Uninterested in the medic, the cameraman zoomed in on the box as Chris Sutton carefully placed it on the occasional table next to the Prime Minister’s chair. Another camera moved into position behind Mr. Sutton giving a view looking down over his left shoulder. He opened the box and took out a sealed, transparent packet holding a hand size, white ceramic tile, a small bottle of testing fluid, and a syringe containing the anti-virus. Carefully, he took the contents out of the packet and placed them on the table. Next he took the hypodermic needle and pushed the syringe plunger until a few drops of anti-virus dripped onto the centre of the tile.
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