by Per Wahlöö
‘Go ahead.’
‘The Defence Research Institute was a financially profitable company. Over the years, its scientists developed various very successful products, particularly in the biochemical field. These were produced under licence abroad, and provided a significant flow of foreign capital into our country, to the general good.’
‘Were these products intended for military use?’
‘Usually. Herbicides and defoliants, and humane bacteriological warfare agents.’
‘Humane?’
‘Yes, agents not aimed at direct human extermination, but designed to put enemy troops or recalcitrant groups temporarily out of action. Here in our country we had no use for such weapons of course, but in other parts of the globe they were very effective in the fight against world comm—’
He broke off and glanced over at the man by the window.
‘Go on,’ said Jensen.
‘But there were certain disadvantages to bacteriological warfare, and some years ago it became obvious that in a wealthy world market there was a need for a biochemical weapon with the effect I mentioned. Rendering enemy forces temporarily harmless, making them incapable of defending themselves.’
‘Yes?’
‘In other countries there had already been some efforts in that direction, but the results were unsatisfactory. Admittedly they had developed a few trial products, but they all proved defective in some respect or other. What’s more, some of them did considerable harm, since the secret of their existence got out to the public, who used them as narcotics. We even felt the effects here at one time. Psychedelic drugs that were smuggled in and abused by the depraved youth of the time. Do you remember?’
‘I remember,’ said Jensen.
‘Anyway, a group at the Defence Research Institute started looking into the subject. A team of trained research scientists that had previously achieved profitable results in other areas. Their activities were shrouded in the greatest secrecy of course, which was a very natural condition insisted on by the foreign interests that had invested the capital.’
‘Who had access to the results?’
‘Apart from the clients, only one special committee within the government. Where appropriate, the security services and the top military leadership were also informed.’
‘And were you yourself a member of this special committee?’
The minister hesitated.
‘Yes,’ he said finally. ‘There would be no point denying it.’
‘Go on.’
‘As far as I understood it, this is what happened. What they were searching for was an agent with the capacity to render certain individuals within, for example, armies of hostile groups passive for a time. The research and development was taking a long time, our clients gradually lost patience and made repeated representations to the special committee through diplomatic channels. They demanded no less than to be shown the results that had been achieved to that point. This finally led the committee to demand the same of the research institute. About two years ago, the head of the research team sent the committee a memorandum.’
A loudspeaker began to boom somewhere in the building. The minister jumped.
‘The radio,’ said the police doctor tersely. ‘A so-called historic moment.’
‘What was in the memorandum?’ asked Jensen.
‘For a layman, what it had to say was not only incredibly complex but also very blunt. It said work was proceeding normally … but to cut a long story short, they had no results whatsoever to show as yet, that the costs had spiralled and budgets were overspent and that furthur grants would be needed if work was to carry on.’
‘Was that all?’
‘No. There was an appendix to the dossier.’
‘Yes?’
‘We read it more or less as an attempt at evasion. It said they had pursued their research on the basis of some kind of antithesis method, and sure enough they had come up with a number of by-products, among them a preparation that hadn’t yet been fully tested. It was known by its code number and was considered promising. For us, on the other hand, it seemed anything but promising, since it was evidently the complete opposite of what the financial backers thought they had a right to expect.’
‘Insofar as what?’
‘The agent in question had been shown to stimulate the will and the urge to achieve targets. They thought they could develop it quite quickly for military use. Battle-weary soldiers could be made more aggressive, more eager to fight and mentally more consolidated. For now, there were various disquieting side effects to contend with. The agent brought with it a kind of hangover, similar to that seen in alcohol abuse. It also led to the abandonment of inhibitions, most obviously in respect of sexual behaviour. They were confident these side effects could be eradicated in the foreseeable future. The preparation was called D5H.’
The man stopped. Appeared to be thinking. Then he said:
‘That was the gist of it. We sent the dossier on to the clients, who replied at once that they could invest no more capital on such meagre results.’
‘And what about D5H?’
‘On that point, their reply was wholly negative. They said they had more than enough alcoholics and troublemakers, not to mention drug abuse and promiscuity.’
‘And what was the committee’s reaction to that answer?’
‘There was only one way it could react. The Defence Research Institute isn’t some charitable employment scheme. We immediately cancelled the whole project and transferred the staff involved to more lucrative activities. We heard no more about it until a couple of months ago.’
He gave a dry, racking cough and put his hand over his mouth.
‘Then the individual who had invented D5H informed us that he had completed the research on his own initiative with the help of a female assistant, and that the preparation had now been through a full set of trials. He was given permission to appear before the committee in person, and came across to us as extremely enthusiastic.’
‘What does D5H stand for?’
‘The letters are just the inventor’s initials. The five was some kind of serial number, I suppose.’
‘Carry on.’
‘The agent was available in tablet form at that stage. According to its originator, it stimulated the will, and the drive to achieve goals, to an extraordinary extent, while arousing the subjects’ interest in their surroundings and refining their thinking.’
‘Refining their thinking?’
‘In that it made it easier for them to express emotions they already had. For example: affection, determination to win, loyalty, love, always assuming these feelings were directed at specific individuals or concepts. One side effect remained. The agent was a sexual stimulant. But since it was also goal-orientated, it wouldn’t necessarily lead to promiscuity, in fact just the opposite. This was what the inventor told us, anyway, and he was also kind enough to point out that our people, with their falling birth rate and extremely underdeveloped sexuality, had long been in need of serviceable aphrodisiacs.’
‘Well he was right about that,’ said the police doctor.
Jensen silenced him with a look and said:
‘Well?’
‘The man asked for permission to try D5H on human subjects. First individuals, then trial groups.’
‘And?’
‘As far as we could see, there was no reason to turn down his request.’
‘How did the trials go?’
‘Very well indeed. The tablets were initially given to boxers who were expected to lose. They won. Then other individual sportsmen, and then a football team. With excellent results all the way. The agent took effect immediately and did everything its originator had promised. The next step was experiments on people engaged in political activities, in our youth organisations and so on. I tried it myself, when I was at a congress. The effect was as intended, and the tablets weren’t habit-forming or addictive. One could observe an instant boost in energy levels, although unfortunat
ely only a very temporary one. It was also observed that the sexually stimulating effect was more noticeable among women than men. But that seemed to be it. Although D5H worked, we had difficulty seeing any way of putting it to practical use. Above all because its effect was so transitory. The inventor personally, and his institute, were informed of this. We were not of the view that the tablets should be manufactured in larger quantities or released as pharmaceutical products, since in the wrong hands they might have undesired consequences.’
‘What happened after that?’
‘The researcher and his assistant demanded immediate permission to carry on working. They hadn’t given up their original idea that the agent, as with other biochemical weapons, could be distributed in a form that meant people were not aware of being exposed to the effects. Moreover, they thought they were at a stage which meant they could soon intensify the impact of D5H so it would remain active for four to six weeks. We let them carry on working.’
He fell silent and tried to catch Jensen’s eye. When this failed, he sighed and said:
‘In the early summer of this year, the inventor informed us that D5H was ready for use. He was called in front of the committee to explain in greater detail what this meant. He explained that he and his assistant had solved all the known problems. The effects of the agent had been extended to about six weeks, after which they disappeared. They had also managed to delay the onset of the effect, so it made itself felt only after two to three weeks. Finally, he had solved the distribution question and established what to use as a vehicle or base. In this he had gone back to various ideas and partial results from the original research project. The idea was quite simply to dissolve D5H in glue that could then be used for the gumming of stamps or stickers. Need I say more?’
‘Yes,’ said Jensen.
‘The inventor said the costs of production were exceedingly low. He could quickly produce quantities sufficient for the adhesive for many millions of stamps. It would cost no more than the gum normally used on postage stamps. Furthermore, he said, the whole batch fitted into a few glass jars, and the agent would prove invaluable in the event of people needing to steel themselves for a coming crisis. He said that in airtight containers, the agent could be stored for an indefinite period.’
The minister put his head in his hands.
‘We commissioned him to make enough of the product for a normal stamp issue, and keep it at the ready. On the first of August, he told us he had completed the task according to our instructions. He was given a bonus. And there’s not much more I can tell you about the institute’s role in this affair.’
‘That doesn’t answer the question about Steel Spring,’ said Jensen.
‘Yes it does,’ the man said bitterly. ‘The campaign committee for Steel Spring came under a lot of pressure from certain elements within the coalition parties. At the previous election, voter turnout had sunk to below fifty per cent; in actual fact only forty-six and a half per cent of all those entitled to vote did so. The figures weren’t released, but they couldn’t be kept entirely secret from the public. Comprehensive opinion polling showed that the vast majority of people who didn’t turn out to vote and stayed on their sofas were employees in the lower income groups. The party to which I originally belonged was the strongest element in the grand coalition on which the Accord was based. This socialist and …’
‘Don’t let me hear that word in your mouth,’ the police doctor said fiercely.
‘… and democratic party had taken their votes from precisely those low-income groups. The unfortunate way things had developed meant that some groups began to question whether our party – or to be more accurate our former party – was over-represented in the current administration.’
‘So you could be said to have acted in your own interests,’ said Jensen.
‘Not at all. I and everyone else on the campaign committee were working entirely with the best interests of the people in view. We knew that the people were loyal and supported both the notion of accord and our welfare policies.’
‘But fifty-three and a half per cent didn’t bother to vote?’
‘That doesn’t mean they didn’t wholeheartedly support the regime.’
‘What does it mean, then?’
‘That large sections of the people didn’t consider it necessary to manifest their loyalty to the regime. The outstanding results of our practical policies and the high standard of living lulled them into a sense of security.’
‘But wasn’t that security one of the central pillars of the Accord?’
‘They could at least fucking well drag themselves to the polling stations once every four years,’ the minister exclaimed.
‘So it annoyed you?’
‘Yes. And what annoyed us even more was that irresponsible left-wing elements were disturbing the social order. They only made up five or six per cent of the whole population, but were constantly staging groundless demonstrations and protests. They opposed everything, from the way we packaged the fizzy drinks, which I can guarantee is the most profitable method in the world, to our foreign policy, despite the fact that it’s kept us neutral for more than a century. Thanks to the fact that we don’t get involved in matters that have nothing to do with us and are often happening in faraway parts of the globe.’
He was speaking in rapid gasps and had to stop to catch his breath.
‘Ninety per cent of the population saw these irresponsible factions as just childish, ranting on about the third world and imperialism and international conscience. I’ve said the same things myself in every single election campaign, by the way. And carrying on their propaganda for a revolution that we achieved with a stroke of the pen years ago. But despite all that, people didn’t bother to repudiate or condemn them. Instead they were allowed to attract the young, who knew no better than to believe puerile doctrines coined by simple-minded foreigners. They were even given the leeway to infiltrate one of society’s most important groups of professionals.’
‘Which one?’
‘Not the police. The doctors. Lots of medical students were infected by their propaganda even before qualifying. The loyal section of the medical profession was extremely concerned. When we discovered that this subversion was going on without any reaction from the people, we realised something had to be done.’
‘What?’
‘Steel Spring. We launched Steel Spring. The big loyalty operation that would spur the people into action once and for all. And show how superfluous and irresponsible all criticism of the ideas of wealth and accord really was. We decided to go in hard with the campaign, using all the means at our disposal.’
‘Was D5H one of those means?’
‘Yes.’
The reply came almost in a whisper, but the next minute the man raised his voice all the more.
‘Why the hell do you think I’d be sitting here giving away state secrets otherwise?’
‘Go on,’ Jensen said tonelessly.
‘The doctors among the campaign leadership recommended it,’ the minister said resignedly. ‘They had tested and analysed the preparation themselves. Like the inventor, they guaranteed it was harmless as long as it wasn’t distributed to any close-knit group of unreasonable, incorrigible people. The decision to deploy D5H was unanimous.’
‘And how was it deployed?’
‘We used it for the gum on the campaign sticker, of course. Can’t you work anything out for yourself?’
Jensen said nothing.
‘We decided that we’d test the first batch on various professions whose loyalty could be guaranteed.’
‘Which ones?’
‘The professional soldiers, the police, the loyal doctors, the electoral societies, the customs service, the loyal youth movements, and staff at the ministries. In order to assess the effect, we timed the period in which the agent would be effective to coincide with intensive propaganda against the antisocial elements.’
‘What other steps were taken?’
‘T
he chief medical officer demanded that all doctors and medical students recorded as antisocial elements in the secret service archives be arrested and held in isolation while the campaign was in progress.’
‘Why?’
‘It was felt that there was a risk of one or more of them getting their hands on a stray sticker. And then having sufficient scientific knowledge to be able to analyse the substance and cause a scandal. If the truth got out about D5H, the second phase of the campaign could be jeopardised.’
‘What second phase?’
‘Distributing the preparation to all workers in the low-income bracket in the form of gummed discount vouchers, timed to take effect the week before the election. Conventional propaganda in the press and on radio and TV would culminate in the same period. Experience and test results from the first batch would underpin our plans for the big, crucial push.’
He paused briefly.
‘According to our statistical calculations, that would produce ninety-five per cent voter turnout. More than ninety per cent of people would vote for the Accord. The opposition would be silenced for good.’
The minister gave Jensen an imploring look.
‘You do see, don’t you, that it was all done in the people’s interests? That we meant no harm? That we had no evil intent?’
‘Your calculations turned out to be wrong,’ said Jensen.
‘Yes. And now, with hindsight, it’s not difficult to work out certain causes and effects. Five days after the declarations of loyalty were sent out, the man who had invented D5H died of leukaemia. He was almost seventy, and we didn’t find the news alarming.’
‘You didn’t?’
‘No. We granted him the honour of a state funeral. I walked in the mourners’ procession myself.’
‘When did you realise what was going on?’
‘Personally I didn’t understand until today. Initially, everything looked very promising. But in the middle of October, we started losing control of the situation. People’s reactions were far more violent than we’d expected. The campaign degenerated. Within a week, there were as many murders and manslaughters here in the city as over the whole preceding five-year period. It went so far that the chief of police ordered that violent crime wasn’t even to be recorded. Then we found out the police and military weren’t obeying orders. Or to be more precise, they weren’t obeying our orders but taking their instructions directly from the Ministry of Justice. When we tried to get hold of the inventor’s female assistant, it turned out she’d destroyed all the research notes and the entire stock of D5H. Then she’d committed suicide. On the twenty-first of October we were forced to postpone the elections. I made the public announcement myself. Five days later we discovered that the guards had taken it upon themselves to execute the doctors in detention. By the thirtieth of October the situation was completely untenable; the Regent and virtually all the top civil servants discreetly went abroad or to their holiday homes in distant parts of the country. After the riots on the second of November, things were calm. I came back to the city two days later, along with a number of other government officials in positions of responsibility. We launched an investigation, but there wasn’t time to complete it. The epidemic broke out. Obviously we didn’t see the connection. You know the rest better than I do.’
