by Stan Mason
‘There’s no chance of us getting out of this prison,’ stated Burton realistically. ‘What I’m going to demand firstly is that they dispense with the handcuffs and ankle chains. Secondly, we want leisure facilities like they have in other jails, Television, pool, etcetera etecetera.’
His words caused the other prisoners to shout their consent at the top of their voices.
‘Let’s see what happens, shall we,’ added Burton finally. He called out to one of the watching warders, beckoning him to approach. The warder complied, keeping well out of the reach of any hands that might draw him to the iron bars. ‘I want an immediate meeting with the Governor,’ insisted the new-found leader. ‘I want it right away. We’ve lots of things to discuss.’
The warder paused for a few moments before consulting with his colleagues and then went away to return shortly with a large key. Before he placed it in the lock, he waved his arm to shoo the prisoners away. ‘I want all of you to stand back fifty yards before I open this gate,’ he told them firmly.
There was a hubbub of dissent until Burton waved his arms to force them to retreat from the area. Once they had done so, the gate was unlocked, Burton went through, watched suspiciously by two other warders, and the gate was locked again. He was taken to the Governors office and stood facing the Senior Warden who leaned forward on his desk holding his hands in front of him. Burton glanced at the two warders guarding him in case he had come to attack the senior man.
‘Well Burton!’ began the Governor thoughtfully. ‘You’ve just been transferred here and you’re causing trouble already. Six men have been killed and three are being held hostage. I suggest that you hand them over immediately. There’s no point in making a stand. Goddammit! You’re all in here for life!’
‘Maybe so!’ retorted Burton irately. ‘But before I lay out the conditions by which this prison will adhere to, I want to know what they’ve done with my body! I was taken somewhere, injected with a needle, and placed in a cubicle. They sent an electrical charge through me and now my body’s old and wrinkled. I feel sluggish... tired much of the time... I feel like an old man. Whatever they did, I know it went wrong because my mind is sharper than it’s ever been. My brain’s been activated to a much higher level. What sort of an experiment did I go through? I now think of everything in military terms. Those men out there are my troops and I tell you straight, Governor, we’re at war!’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Burton!’ exclaimed the Senior Warden. He knew that it was impossible for him to reveal the truth to the prisoner but he had no idea where the discussion was going to take them.
‘And pigs have wings!’ snapped the prisoner sharply. ‘You know exactly what happened to me! That’s why I was transferred from Lancaster jail... so that no one would find out!’
‘You were transferred because Lancaster jail is closing down.’
’Explain to me why they’re closing down a maximum security prison. It doesn’t make any sense!’ He paused momentarily and silence reigned throughout the room. ’Look!’ he went on. ’All I want is my body back. No more, no less. Now why can’t that be done?’
The Governor was at a loss for words so he went on to the attack. ’I suggest you all go back to your cells. I’ll contact the authorities to arrange for some facilities that you do not have at present... television and the like. But I’d like to make it quite clear. You’re all in prison for life. You have nothing to bargain with!’
’Except three hostages!’ came the response. Burton’s face took on a determined expression and he stood up straight as though ready to deliver an ultimatum. ’What I want from you,’ he went on, tailing off in the middle of a sentence. His eyes glazed over and his legs gave way. The warders guarding him tried to stop him from falling but he slumped to the floor before they could prevent it from happening.
‘Call the doctor!’ ordered the Governor without hesitation.
One of the warders hurried to the telephone on the desk while the other warder placed a cushion under Burton’s neck and felt his pulse. Then he looked up at the Senior Warden shaking his head slowly. The doctor arrived shortly afterwards and examined the body.
‘He’s gone,’ he muttered, after lifting one of Burton’s eyelids. ‘It looks like he had a stroke. You’d better bring him into the surgery. I’ll do an autopsy.’
The two warders carried the body out of the room much to the relief of the Governor. He considered that he had been saved by the bell. Notwithstanding, every death had to have a reason and there would be a thorough investigation. In this case, he knew the reason for the prisoner’s demise. Death hung patiently in the wings when it came to exchanging bodies in the Government’s new project. It struck hard and fast with those involved in the experiment... always affecting those whose bodies had become aged.
When the news of Burton’s death was released to the prisoners they went on the rampage, smashing anything they could lay their hands on and they started to beat up the hostages. However, after a short while, with the realisation that they had no specific leader they conceded defeat and succumbed once again to the rules of the prison. With great reluctance, they returned to their cells allowing the warders to reclaim the hostages. They had failed in their attempt to improve conditions and were again forced to wear manacles on their hands and chains on their feet. Burton was gone and so was any effort to secure the advantage... if they ever had one!
***
Jordan sat in his office with a moody expression on his face. He recognised that he had been far too lax with regard to the exchange process. His trust in the advance of science and of the scientists was truly misplaced for he had expected perfection in every transfer. Although his actions had been creditable in organising all the arrangements for the process to take place, he really failed to understand anything about the technical operation. In an attempt to redress the situation, he travelled to the ASA Headquarters at Lytham St. Annes requesting precise details of the exchange operation. In reality, it was too little, too late. He was met by one of the scientists but the name of Harvey Wilson, dressed in a white overall, to explain the process.
‘Let me begin by saying that it was first discovered by Gustav Hertz who died in 1975. He was a German physicist who won the Nobel Prize in physics for work on the impact of electrons on atoms. This was further developed twenty-five years later when the Americans tried it in what is known as the Philadelphia Experiment. You may recall it was about a ship anchored in a harbour on the east coast of the United States which suddenly appeared some two hundred miles inland and then reverted back again. The project was only in the experimental stage at the time and ended in disaster. We’ve developed Hertz’s theory much further over the past two years to enable us to break down the atoms of one body and transfer it to another. It’s a little similar to the sci-fi television programme on television, only that’s fiction.’
‘I have to admit that it’s a fantastic process,’ cut in the government agent before Wilson continued.
‘As you are aware, we have two cubicles which are used for the transfer. Both participants have to wear a metal coat which contains hundreds of electrodes. These are automatically attached to numerous parts of the bodies with the aide of suction pods. To break down the tissue into atoms, there are two pieces of necessary equipment. The first one is called the rhadiome. This is designed to disseminate the tissues into atoms which become ready to be transferred. The second one is the amiode which switches them from one body to the next by means of cables until they come to a unit known as mode stance. This segregates the tissues of one body from the other and allows the transfer to take place swiftly.’
‘What are the chances of anything going wrong with this process?’
‘Technically speaking,’ continued Wilson candidly, ‘the process us still in the experimental stage but the Government was in a hurry to get the programme started. Anything can happen a
t any time because it’s unproved. But we’re delighted to have exchanged so many bodies so far without a mass of complications.’
‘You’ve not heard about Colonel Masterson and Tom Burton yet I presume,’ forwarded the government agent curtly.
‘No,’ returned the scientist blankly. ‘What’s happened with them?’
‘It seems that the mind of the prisoner also went with his body. The exchange took place of the bodies and the minds. The Colonel turned evil and the prisoner found that he could think like a commander. There’s a hell of a fuss going on.’
Wilson shook his shoulders aimlessly at the information and he shifted in his chair. ‘We always use the soft metal coat with electrodes from the neck downwards. I can’t understand how the brain could have been transferred. I didn’t think it possible.’
‘Well it happened in this case,’ retorted Jordan. ‘I’ve also just heard that Burton, the prisoner who was transferred with him, had died of a stroke leading a riot at the jail. There are too many strokes and cardiac arrests after exchanges have been made, Wilson. I can’t say I like it.’
‘It’s something that we’re beginning to recognise,’ stated Wilson solemnly. ‘It seems that the stress of the exchange weakens the older body of the two participants. Our analysis shows that about twenty-five per cent of the older body dies within one week of the exchange. It’s a calculated risk as far as they’re concerned.’
‘So how strong is the current that flows through the cables to enable the transfer to take place?’ asked Jordan. With interest.
‘We have a machine called a kilo-distributor which sends the current directly into the radiome. It then splits up into two types of waves... direct and indirect. The amiode picks up the direct waves for one body and the indirect waves for the other one. The modestance machine allows them to break down the tissues so that the bodies can undergo the exchange.’
The government agent blew out his cheeks in amazement. ’Whoever worked all that out must be an absolute genius.’
Wilson burst into laughter at the comment. ’We all aspire to be a genius,’ he added, tongue in cheek. ’Is there anything else you’d like to know?’
’If the waves can only traverse through the electrodes, how come the two brains were exchanged? I mean there was no connection whatsoever... no current passing through either head.’
’We’re going to have to look into that one,’ declared the scientist with a puzzled expression on his face. ’’One can never say that such things never happen. The current applied is extremely powerful. It has to be to disseminate the atoms of the bodies in order to transfer them. The machines do all the work under strict computer instructions but there’s always room for problems to occur. I don’t think the incident that happened to your Colonel will be a regular affair but one never knows. Science is a subject of continuing development while machines may fail at times.’
Jordan thanked the scientist for the information before leaving the laboratory. He wasn’t certain that he had learned very much about the process and, quite truthfully, he didn’t want to especially as it was of not help to him. It was now quite clear that the process was brilliant in its effect but errors could occur which caused all kinds of problems... not only for the participants but for him! Worst still, he wasn’t sure whether they could be corrected. If not, they had a flawed situation on their hands which could explode into public life and cause a giant scandal. It was a situation that failed to make him happy... indeed, he was anything but happy!
***
Bill Preston sat alone in his bedroom in Lancaster jail. It was sparsely furnished with just a single bed, a small wardrobe, a bedside table, an armchair, and a small flat-pack bookshelf. In one corner stood the only television allowed in the prison although he rarely watched any of the programmes. There was too much crime being shown to his liking and he avoided them. He spent most of his time reading books about criminals and detectives, all of them non-fiction. He had no time for untrue stories made up by dedicated authors to fill the minds of the public with their false tales. Six months had passed by since the beginning of the transfer of prisoners with eminent people in society. He was now down to two-hundred-and-fifty inmates and no one had yet informed him of his role in the service in six months time when every one of the prisoners had gone. It was typical of his employers to withhold the details until the last possible moment and he still felt that he was simply a pawn in the game. The authorities expected him to take full responsibility for whatever happened at the jail yet, when it came down to personal situations, they became totally reticent. He was truly fed up by the fact that the jail would be closing at a tie when crime was rising in the country and there was a shortage of cells to accommodate offenders. However who was he to contradict the Government of the day? They pretended to have all the answers... even though they got them wrong much of the time. He rued the fact that Members of Parliament, who not only passed all the legislation which everyone was forced to obey, and constantly told the public that they had their finger on the pulse, were elected every four years and many of them had no experience of business, people or life itself let alone qualifications! Most of them readily accepted their large salaries each month, as well as their expenses, and, in reality, did exceptionally little to help the people or the country. They were stooges to their Party’s politics whereby Government Whips ordered them to vote one way or another despite their personal views on any matter. He remained in a sombre mood for the best part of half-an-hour when there was a gently knock on his bedroom door. He answered the call to face one of his warders who had a message for him.
‘There’s a Dr. Da Silva at the main gate. He’s asked to see you on an urgent matter,’ related the man.
‘Da Silva!’ uttered Preston pursing his lips with a puzzled expression on his face. He shook his head as he failed to recognised the name. ‘Never heard of him. Did he say what he wanted?’
‘No,’ came the reply. ‘He asked to speak with you personally.’
The Governor rose from his chair and went with the warder to his office nearby. ‘Okay... send him in,’ he muttered sombrely, parking himself in the executive chair behind his desk.
He waited patiently for a few minutes until Da Silva arrived and pointed to the wooden chair on the other side of the desk. The visitor took his seat and stared directly into the eyes of the Senior Warden as if weighing him up and down.
‘What can I do for you, Doctor?’ asked Preston tiredly.
Da Silva paused for a few moments before replying. ‘I’m faced with a strange situation and I wonder whether you can throw some light on it,’ he advanced.
’Go on!’ urged Preston, as the other man hesitated in his flow.
‘It’s about prisoners who have been transferred from this prison and form other prisons,’ he went on. ‘I’ve carried out autopsies on a number of men who died to discover something which I cannot explain.’
The Governor knew exactly what the Doctor was going to ask him and he dreaded thinking about an answer in advance.
‘When I examined their records, I found that they were all relatively young men who appeared to have much older bodies. Each one of them had a whitish mark around his neck but the body was much older than a man of his age... very much older. For example, this morning I examined one cadaver who was forty-five years of age but his body was that of a man over eighty. I know it sounds ridiculous but it’s the truth. That’s why I’ve come here to ask whether you can throw some light on it.’
Preston stared at the other man glumly. ‘I know nothing about it,’ he lied blatantly, ‘so I’m afraid I can’t help you. You say that every body you examined was a young man with a much older body. That doesn’t sound right.’
‘Precisely!’ returned the Doctor flatly. ‘Every man had an older body but his head was still intact. That was the strange thing about it. The face and the head always seemed t
o be young. You can see my dilemma. I’ve come across a phenomenon that needs to be explained.’
‘I don’t know how you think I can help you,’ retorted the Governor trying not to look directly into the other man’s eyes.
‘I’ve seen a few of the other Governors,’ declared Da Silva candidly. ‘They all deny any knowledge. Is there something happening with regard to the prisoners that I ought to know about?’
‘This is a high-security penitentiary,’ snapped Preston tiring of the conversation. ‘Nothing of any consequence takes place here, I assure you. These men are serving life sentences. We simply house them here for the rest of their days.’
Da Silva looked disappointed at the response to his questions and he shook his head slowly. ‘I’m going to get to the bottom of this,’ he declared boldly, ‘I promise you that. Something odd’s going on and I’m going to find out!’
‘Well,’ concluded the Governor as though he had urgent business to attend to elsewhere, ‘I can’t help you.’ He stood up hoping that the Doctor would follow suit and leave. To his dismay, Da Silva remained seated deep in thought.
‘Do you think I might have stumbled on a conspiracy?’ continued the visitor as an evil thought crossed his mind.
‘I’m sorry,’ stated Preston firmly, ‘but there’s something important that I have to deal with. My warder will see you out.’
Da Silva rose from his chair slowly staring hard at the other man. ‘You know something, don’t you!’ he accused bluntly becoming suspicious of the Governor’s reticence. ‘You’re deliberately keeping something from me!’ There was a long pause of silence before he continued. ‘As I said, I’ll get to the bottom of it one way or another but you’ll be one of the Governors mentioned in my report who’ll be named as part of the conspiracy!’
