The Good: A page turning thriller where politics meets future technology in a bid to control human behaviour

by Carl Andrew

  “If anything happens, make a loud noise to warn the others and then run like hell. Now go.”

  Sarah followed Tilly to the last room at the far end of the corridor. The room was full of documents and paperwork and she watched as Tilly started tearing into the draws and cupboards causing chaos as she went.

  “Don’t just stand their Sarah, get your paint open and cover this place,” Tilly commanded.

  Sarah did as she was told. She’d never seen Tilly as chief aggressor before but she was impressed by this new side to her character.

  She opened the paint tin with a screwdriver she found in a drawer, pulled the drawer out completely from the unit and emptied the contents onto the ground before covering the surfaces with paint.

  She felt a surge of excitement, almost exhilaration, run through her as she followed Tilly’s lead. Before they knew it, they’d covered four rooms, all seeming to be administrative offices, and had run out of paint in the process.

  “Let’s go Tilly, just coming up to half past,” Sarah said after glancing at her watch. They hurried out of the area and found their way back.

  They met the rest of the group in the main lobby area and Sarah scanned around for any sign of liberated animals.

  “No furry friends around to save, but we’ve definitely made a statement,” Sebastian confirmed, almost recognising Sarah’s inquisitive look.

  “Ok, we’re going back the way we came, follow me.”

  They retraced their steps back to the loose stone car park, hastened into the cars and that was essentially it. Two hours planning was acted out in just under fifteen minutes.

  As they made their way back on to the A14, it was like someone had hit an excitement button. They were out of range and in the clear. At that point, shrieks of delight echoed throughout the vehicle and Sarah found herself embraced from all angles.

  Cries of “we did it” and the more aggressive “fuck them all and fuck Jennifer Hopwood” emanated from the group.

  The drive back to Huntingdon seemed to fly by and, after saying goodbye to the gang, Sarah quickly found herself back home and completely buzzing.

  There was no way she could sleep.

  Chapter 8:

  Mid-November - Huntingdon, Cambridgeshire.

  The driver pulled in to the car park at Huntingdon Life Sciences. Russell and Vanessa exchanged curious glances as a Police car passed them on the way in.

  Looking around, everything seemed in order. It must have been a routine visit, thought Vanessa.

  The facility was no different to any other industrial park, a little more modern maybe but she wasn’t sure what to expect on the drive up from London. She was almost disappointed that it wasn’t a little more ‘space age’.

  They went towards the entrance of the main building at the end of the forecourt and stepped inside unsure whether to knock, call out or just walk in through the open door.

  The lobby area looked perfectly normal but there was a lot of activity as well as heated voices along both corridors leading left and right off the main area.

  Vanessa was just about to call out when she heard footsteps coming from the left hand side. A tall and flustered woman in her mid-forties appeared wearing a white lab coat covered in a red fluid. The nature of the work that went on in the facility led Vanessa immediately to a specific conclusion.

  “Hi, I’m Vanessa Lim and this is Russell Brooks. We’re here to see Dr Jennifer Hopwood. I’m sorry if we’ve come in the middle of an experiment,” Vanessa said looking at the woman’s lab coat.

  “I’m Jennifer. Sorry, experiment… errr…. I don’t know what you mean?” Jennifer responded. She was a little confused.

  “Your coat, the blood?” clarified Vanessa.

  “No, no it’s paint, red paint. Why are you he…. Oh, 10am,” said Jennifer noticing the time on her watch. “Our meeting, I’m sorry, we’ve had a break in or rather an attack… by animal activists we believe.”

  “We’re a bit all over the place at the moment,” she concluded.

  “Oh I see, sorry to hear that Miss Hopwood. I’m Russell Brooks, pleased to meet you. We can do this meeting at some other time, it’s obviously not convenient for you at the moment,” stepped in Russell, polite as ever and showing genuine concern.

  “No, it’s fine. This isn’t the first time we’ve been attacked and it won’t be the last time. I’m actually quite used to it. If we cancel our daily plans, we’ll only be conceding defeat. We must carry on as normal.”

  “So, shall we begin, we can meet here, this room was largely untouched,” Jennifer said pointing in the direction of an office adjacent to the lobby.

  “If you’re sure Dr Hopwood,” Russell offered, following her toward the direction of the door.

  “Yes, or course and please call me Jennifer.”

  Vanessa and Russell sat down opposite Jennifer who had placed a jug of water on the table with three clean but very different-shaped glasses.

  “So, how many times have you and your team been attacked by these activists Jennifer? You seem awfully calm for someone who potentially has lost a lot of important work,” started Vanessa.

  “In my line of work Vanessa, this is almost a monthly occurrence. We actually plan for this eventuality and ensure all work is stored on our cloud based computer system at the end of each day.

  All this paperwork that you see lying around is really just the legacy of the lazy scientist,” she said.

  “It’s actually a little ironic that an industry that is renowned for order and clarity is staffed by some of the most untidy, administratively inept people,” continued Jennifer.

  “I see, kudos for the pre-planning. If only we were all as well prepared, I know that the political world could certainly learn a thing or two from your experience,” Vanessa followed up.

  “So listen, I won’t keep you as I can see you have a lot on today. I’ll get straight to the point,” she continued.

  “I’d appreciate that,” interjected Jennifer, asserting a level of control.

  Vanessa was again impressed by the scientist’s feisty approach and hardy character. I can already tell I’m going to enjoy working with you, she thought to herself.

  “You’ll be aware that the Lawson Government intends to eradicate the issue of anti-social behaviour on the streets of Britain. Our manifesto leading up to the election was primarily focused on this and we’ve already made inroads during the first couple of months we’ve had in office,” stated Vanessa.

  “With considerable side effects by all accounts,” Jennifer jumped in alluding to the Ministry of Justice report.

  “Please spare me the political diatribe and tell me how you feel we can work together,” she concluded.

  “Of course,” said Vanessa. “I’ve followed your career Jennifer. I’ve studied your work and I’ve been as impressed as anyone in how you’ve managed to change the way people perceive the way animals behave towards one another.”

  “I know that you’ve extended this work outside of the animal kingdom and have some experience of dealing with the understanding of human behavioural triggers. Particularly those relating to conflict,” she continued.

  Jennifer was nodding in acknowledgement as Vanessa continued her monologue.

  “Speaking frankly, lots of different solutions have been tested and implemented to try and solve the issue of anti-social behaviour, each with a varying degree of success. However, I believe that every solution has really been more of a band aid to stem the flow of the problem as opposed to trying to identify what the source of the problem is,” she paused for effect, taking in Jennifer’s reaction.

  “I believe,” she reiterated “… that the issue is one of human behaviour. That is where I see our paths crossing. If we can understand why people are choosing to adopt these bad, negative and often violent behaviours, then I truly feel we can find a way to tackle the issue.”

  “I find what you’re saying very encouraging Vanessa. It’s good to see the political world
prepared to look at and appreciate problems from a more analytical or scientific perspective,” responded Jennifer.

  “But the greater challenge is that humans tend to be far more complex than other animals. Not just emotionally but intellectually,” continued Jennifer.

  “It’s one thing to understand why a dog behaves in a certain way around food. It’s primarily based on a pattern of behaviour.”

  “Humans, on the other hand, tend not to follow patterns as much and react to many more external influences before deciding on the right course of action to take in any given situation,” said Jennifer, the scientist coming out audibly in her prose.

  “Essentially, what it sounds like you’re asking is for me to use my research techniques to study people and identify the triggers that make them do bad deeds. Then use the data captured to understand how to change that behaviour,” she concluded.

  “Yes, that’s it. That’s what we need to be able to do,” Vanessa responded enthusiastically.

  Encouraged that her thought process was now out in the open and being understood by a like-minded individual.

  “You do realise that pretty much borders on mind control. The same criticism I’ve had to endure from the uneducated media pack for many years. How do you envisage a Government being able to be embroiled in such a situation? How much trust would you expect from the electorate if it came out that the Lawson Government was trying to control the way its citizens behaved?” queried Jennifer.

  “I know it seems a little more on the shady side of public policy but somewhere in our collected intelligence, there has to be a more socially acceptable way to use this research to deal with the issue,” Vanessa said, more in hope than in expectation.

  “What do you think of this Russell? You’ve been quietly listening to the conversation. Are you on board for a bit of mind control,” Jennifer asked Russell more in jest.

  “I think working on human behaviour is the right arena to play in but I’ll categorically state that mind control or brainwashing is not something I’m prepared to be associated with. However, if we can find a way to encourage people to make good decisions instead of bad ones then I see that as a positive way to tackle this situation,” Russell said.

  “Vanessa and I have had many long and often heated discussions about this. One thing we both agree on is that we’re not going to find a solution by penalising anti-social behaviour after the act has taken place. We’ve seen that from the challenges now being faced by the prison system.”

  “However, stopping people from wanting to be anti-social in the first place is really the only way we can solve the issues faced by this country.”

  “I love my country Jennifer. I served my country and still do. It sickens me to see what Great Britain has become and I’m willing to do whatever I can to change the direction we’re currently heading in,” he concluded, impassioned and with integrity and honesty.

  “Ok,” said Jennifer. “I have to admit to being intrigued. I’m also conscious of my funding situation as you know Vanessa. I can see us working together and I’d like to give it a try. I have a few conditions though,” she said. The truth was she was already resigned to this outcome after her first call with Vanessa.

  “Go on Jennifer. We’re happy to try and find an agreement if we can,” Vanessa stated.

  “I won’t work for the Government,” Jennifer continued.

  “But you just said…” Vanessa jumped in, a little confused.

  “I know what I said Vanessa and I mean it. I won’t work for the Government.”

  “But what I will do is set up and run an independent Institute designed to research into human behaviour. This Institute can receive Government funding and will provide research results for the Government’s use first and foremost. However, this Institute will also be allowed to continue the research I’ve been doing into animal behaviour,” said Jennifer.

  “Go on,” Russell added.

  “You can deal with the policy side and use the research results however you want, I won’t get involved in that. But I have final say on what I am and am not credited with. I don’t want anything to negatively impact my reputation in the scientific world. Also, I have carte blanche in terms of the direction the Institute takes. I make the decisions.” Jennifer concluded.

  “I think I speak on behalf of both of us when I say that I’m encouraged by your recommendation,” Vanessa interjected.

  “However, we need to think about how this would work. Give us a couple of days and let’s meet again to discuss further towards the end of the week. We need to get further buy in internally and also look at the available funding. Does that work for you?” Vanessa continued.

  “I look forward to speaking to you later this week,” Jennifer said getting up from her seat as she did so. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a few things that I need to attend to here. You’re ok to show yourselves out?” she asked more rhetorically than anything.

  “Absolutely and thanks for taking the time to meet with us,” Russell responded.

  He and Vanessa walked off in the direction of the car while Jennifer got back to her tidying.

  The driver opened the door and they both accepted the invitation. It always seemed a little chillier when you left the confines of the capital and Vanessa welcomed the warmth of the car.

  As they pulled out of the complex, Vanessa turned to Russell and said:

  “What do you think?”

  “Honestly, I think that’s a very sensible approach and really feel we’ve got something we can work with. We’ll need to push back on the autonomy she requested as there’s no use an Institute being set up and researching things that are irrelevant to our needs but, on the whole, the meeting was encouraging,” he said.

  “Of course, it’s not me who’ll need convincing. We need to work out how we’re going to sell this to the rest of the Cabinet and, more importantly, David,” he concluded.

  “Agreed, let’s think on that and reconvene tomorrow. Right now, I have a million emails to catch up on,” stated Vanessa scanning her laptop as she spoke.

  A little further down the road, a news van was travelling at pace in the opposite direction towards the complex.

  Vanessa, acknowledging the van, turned to Russell and said: “Looks like we got out of there at the right time. The attack will be all over the news today.”

  ------------------------------------------------------------

  Finsbury Park, London

  The news report finished and Leon switched off the TV. He was impressed by how calm Dr Hopwood, the scientist being interviewed, appeared when talking about the attack at the research facility the night before.

  He was intrigued by the area of science she was focused on. He’d heard of her before but never really paid too much attention until now and he felt compelled to follow her story with interest.

  The day was just entering lunchtime and Leon was looking forward to the leftover curry from last night. The cloudy, grey skies and lower than average temperature meant that comfort food was required and there was nothing more comforting to him than a Lamb Bhuna with Pilau Rice from the ‘Taste of Kashmir’ restaurant at the end of the road.

  He’d been looking forward to it all morning.

  As he made his way towards the kitchen, his journey was rudely interrupted by the phone. Cursing the fact that someone who had no idea that he was preparing for a repeat of his favourite meal would have the audacity to call him mid food fantasy.

  He pulled the device, the bane and saviour of his existence in equal measure, from his pocket. He looked at the screen and saw it was a blocked number, thought for a second and then pressed to answer. Someone in his profession was used to blocked numbers.

  “Leon speaking, how can I help?” he said.

  A pause reciprocated his greeting, followed by breathing that was audibly heavy. Leon instantly felt excited. This was the sort of call that could lead to all manner of possibilities in his experience.

  “Is this L
eon Bryant?” a low, gravelly voice finally broke the silence.

  “It is, who am I speaking to please?

  “You don’t know me…” came the response. “But I have some important information to share.”

  All of Leon’s impulses were correct. This was one of ‘those’ calls. He had to play this smartly. The guy on the other end of the line already sounded a little spooked.

  Take it easy, don’t rush him and let him do the talking, he thought to himself.

  “I’m listening, please carry on Mr….?” Leon asked, already chastising himself for being so bold as to ask a question.

  “I’d rather remain anonymous if you don’t mind Mr Bryant,” the man said.

  “Of course and please call me Leon. So, what is it you’d like to tell me,” Leon spoke now in a slow and precise tone.

  “Things are happening Mr… err.. I mean Leon. I just came from a meeting and something completely… err… unheralded is starting. I mean, it was 1919 when this last happened and I… I just don’t know how this could work but … but they’re talking about it. It’s completely umm… completely out of the ordinary,” the man said in a voice tinged with panic and confusion in equal measure.

  “Go on please,” encouraged Leon. “What do you mean by 1919 when this last happened?”

  “I mean the strikes,” the response came as if Leon should know instantly what he was referring to.

  “So then they set up the Federation and many thought…., well… believed that we’d never see this happen again.”

  “I mean its crazy right. The police talking about taking action that’s tantamount to a strike. It’s unlawful really, but it’s not the Federation who’s doing this. It’s a group of unhappy officers,” the man continued.

  “Wait a second. I don’t know if I quite understand this but are you telling me that the police force is on the verge of strike action?” Leon interjected, bewildered about what he was hearing.

  “While they’re not calling it a strike, more a protest against their conditions of work, essentially, it leads to the same result. No more strong police presence on the streets. They’re sick and tired of working double shifts with all leave cancelled. It’s unsustainable,” came what Leon had already feared would be the response.