by Stan Mason
‘Radiome machine,’ cut in the other man.
‘Yes... once this radiome machine has been repaired, you could be ready in a few hours. The process could begin again in the morning at Lancaster jail. Am I correct in that assumption?’
The Chief Scientist nodded thoughtfully. ‘Yes, that’s correct,’ he confirmed.
‘Good man!’ chortled the Minister clearly pleased with himself although he was irritated by the fact that he had driven all the way to Lytham St. Annes but was denied observing the exchange process in action. ‘I’ll arrange for a very large vehicle to be delivered here later today,’ he went on. ‘It will take you and your staff to Lancaster jail tonight.’
‘You’re moving us that quickly?’ challenged Mottley with surprise, stunned at the speed of the operation.
‘There’s no time like the present!’ stated the Minister bluntly. ‘You’d better inform your staff of the move without delay. I think that’s everything we need to discuss.’
‘But what if the staff refuse to move,’ bleated the other man. ‘I mean they have families... they’ve bought houses... ’
‘This is no time to be sentimental,’ came the cold reply. ‘They’re under contract to the Government and they’ll do what they’re told. I’m sure you’ll be able to convince them.’
The Chief Scientist rose and left the room in disgust, without saying another word. As he did so, Ratcliffe pulled a mobile telephone from his pocket and dialled a number.
‘Preston!’ he greeted with a cold tone in his voice when the Governor of Lancaster jail answered the call. ‘Jeremy Ratcliffe, Minister of Science,’ he continued. ‘Instead of sending prisoners to the ASA Headquarters for the exchange programme., the circus is coming to you.’
‘Circus?’ spluttered Preston with concern. ‘What do you mean?’ He recognised that the affairs of the day had started t work against him.
‘I’m transferring the exchange programme to your jail with immediate effect. It should arrive late tonight.’
‘Are you serious?’ retorted the Government in disbelief. ‘Let me get this right! You’re bringing the exchange experiment to my jail!’
‘Indeed we are. In fact if all goes to plan, the whole kit and caboodle will be with you within the next ten hours.’
Preston paused to digest the information before a number of questions started to torrent through his brain. ‘Where will you put it here? What about the prisoners currently in the jail? Are there sufficient facilities to cope with the development? I mean what about accommodation and food for the additional staff?’
‘I’m sure you’ll be able to cope with the exigencies of the move,’ uttered the Minister carelessly.
‘But why move it here?’ demanded the Governor with a tinge of anger in his voice. It seemed incredible to him that the location of the programme was to end up in his province.
‘It’s all to do with retaining the secrecy of the project,’ explained Ratcliffe, although in truth the move made no real sense at all. It seemed that the Government was clutching at straws with no proper planning to ensure the good running of the project.
‘You realise you’ll face a multitude of problems by moving here,’ commented Preston trying to envisage a means of overcoming some of them.
‘As I said, Governor, I’m sure you’ll cope,’ came the response. ‘After all, that’s your job, isn’t it? Just be prepared for the arrival of the team, that’s all.’
The conversation ended abruptly as Ratcliffe terminated the call leaving Present to stare blankly at his desk. ‘How idiotic!’ he thought to himself. ‘Why move the blessed thing to my jail?’ He then realised that it was simply another measure of Government incompetence... politician playing at management when they didn’t have a clue as to what it was all about. Well at least there was one advantage for him... he wouldn’t have to arrange the transfer of prisoners to Lytham St. Annes any more. However he still had the task of sending them to other penitentiaries after the exchange had taken place. He recalled the words of Jordan in their recent telephone conversation when he had been offered the role of managing the exchange programme. At least, while the programme was allowed to run, his future was no longer in jeopardy... it was clear that he was going to be in control of the operation. It was now about to happen but he realised that he might be putting his head in a noose. He could only hope that no one would pull the rope tighter!
***
Jordan remained in an office close to the laboratory for the rest of the evening. He looked through the list which recorded the names of those who had participated in the exercise. It contained information about a number of famous people who had been supreme in sport, politics, the arts, medicine and science. The plan was that they would be able to re-establish themselves in their specific fields of operation for many years to come. The government agent felt that the cause was absolutely right for the country especially as it diminished the number of callous murderous criminals through early death after the exchanges had taken place.
It was seven-forty when someone knocked on the door and entered the office without warning.
‘I’m James O’Brien,’ announced the man wearing the habit of a priest. ‘I’m the Chaplain to the Blackstock and Lancaster jails and one or two others.’
Jordan stared at the man blankly. ‘Yes, Father O’Brien,’ he muttered solemnly. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘May I sit down?’ requested the priest politely.
‘Of course,’ replied the government agent glancing at his wristwatch. ‘I hope this won’t take long. I have a meeting to attend to at eight o’clock.’
‘No,’ continued O’Brien in a breezy Irish fashion. ‘It won’t take any time at all.’
There was a long silence as the two men stared at each other like two sparring partners in the boxing ring.
‘Well!’ spat Jordan impatiently after a few moments had passed. ‘What do you want to say?’
‘I came along with one of the prisoners to this place,’ explained the priest trying to condense the tale in the shortest possible way. ‘The man was incarcerated at Blackstock jail. I have to say that most prisoners shun me and I can hardly expect them to welcome me with open arms. I mean they’re in jail for life so what can they expect from God or religions? Occasionally I make a breakthrough but not very often. I welcome the moment when a prisoner becomes a true believer. But that’s not why I’m here. To cut a long story short, I came here with a believer who had no idea what was going to happen to him. He believed that he was simply being transferred from one jail to another. Then, to my horror, I witnessed a gross and terrible irreligious act. His body was placed in a cubicle to be exchange with that of a very old man. To tell you the truth, I was shocked at the deception and also at the act which is against God’s will and everything written in the Holy Bible!’
The government agent’s hackles began to rise as he realised that an outside had witness someone going through the exchange process without being cleared by security. By good fortune, the man was a priest so his silence could be contained. Nonetheless, a stranger had been allowed to enter the laboratory without being stopped by security guards. Worse still, he had been a witness to someone undergoing the exchange process. It was a breach of the rules and someone’s head would roll for the default. It was yet another serious problem which had to be more firmly stressed.
‘You should not have been allowed into the building,’ reproached Jordan angrily.
‘The uniform I wear allows me to go anywhere I like,’ countered O’Brien point-blank. ‘But to get to the point, what you’re doing here is not only illegal, it’s immoral!’
‘How dare you!’ snapped the government agent furiously, angry at the criticism.
‘The prisoners emerge from the cubicles with old bodies,’ declared the priest determined to reproach the other man. ‘You’re taking away t
heir lives without their permission!’
‘They have no lives!’ came the harsh response. ‘They gave them up when they murdered innocent people in cold blood. You need to look on the upside of the issue. Good men... people who have contributed in many walks of life to the community, can continue with their good work because they are technically young again. They retain all the knowledge they collected in their lifetime to use once more for many more years. Far better to renew their bodies with younger ones than to allow them to rot in jail. As the prisoners are likely to die soon after the exchange takes place, we’re really doing them a favour letting them go early to Heaven... or whatever other place there is.’
‘You have no right to make such decisions. You’re playing at being God, choosing to select those who can live and those who can’t.’
‘I don’t see any moral issues in our actions at all,’ stated Jordan plainly. ‘The prisoners are all Grade One murderers. They killed other people with no conscience whatsoever. The tru moral issue is the fact that a tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye, while in the Holy Bible, has no effect in Britain today, Capital punishment... the death penalty... is against the law in this country. The do-gooders have had their stupid way to abolish it. If it was still in practice, none of the prisoners held in high security jails would be alive today.’
‘So now you’re really playing God!’ retorted O’Brien curtly. ‘You’d have them all hung for a mistake they made in their youth.’
‘I wouldn’t try to defend them, Father,’ countered the government agent with a firm tone in his voice. ‘They’re all cold-blooded killers... every single one of them. And if I were you, I’d have more compassion for their victims!’
‘I’ve compassion all right,’ returned the priest, ‘but that doesn’t mean I approve what you’re doing to them. As I said before... it’s illegal and immoral!’
‘I can’t see any point in continuing this conversation,’ uttered Jordan sharply. ‘It’s quite obvious we don’t see eye to eye . In any case, it’s not my decision to carry out the exchange programme. If you want to aim your lance at windmills, challenge the Government. They’re responsible for it. I suggest you take it up with them, However, I urge you most strongly to decline to reveal the matter to anyone else. There’s already been the death of a pathologist who threatened to reveal all the details to the Press..’
‘Monstrous!’ reacted the priest angrily. ‘Are you threatening me, Mr. Jordan, because I’m a man of God and I don’t take threats lightly.’ He looked directly into the other man’s eyes and then stood up to leave. Don’t think this is the end of it! I haven’t finished with you or your Government!’
He left the room in a huff leaving Jordan trying to calm himself down. The last thing he wanted was to have an interfering priest putting a spanner in the works. As a result of the confrontation, he made a swift telephone call to his superior in the Government and left it up to him to deal with the matter. He was not to know that the priest was found dead in his quarters on the following day. The police found a note which stated that he had lost his faith in God and didn’t want to live any more. The considered that he had shot himself in the temple to end his term on Earth. It was quite clear to an observer that the Government was insistent that it would not be held to ransom by anyone with regard to the exchange programme.
***
A large white van arrived at Lancaster jail at nine o’clock on the following morning. The tired and reluctant staff unloaded the equipment which was placed in the main body of the prison. A small marquee was erected quickly so that the equipment could be hidden from the inmates who could only see the outside of the tent. Preston stood by watching as the equipment was installed, noticing a machine known as a supercharger which had been brought in to strengthen the flow of the electrical current through the cubicles.
The Governor was now certain of one thing. He would exchange the rest of his prisoners without delay, emptying the jail completely within a matter of days. It concerned him that he had received no documentation concerning the change in his employment, believing that it would be sent through the fax machine shortly. However, the message never came! He was being forced to take control of the operation without any confirmation at all.
The Chief Scientist, with a wealth of tiredness showing in his face, sat drinking tea with Preston in his office.
‘We had to work right through the night,’ he explained wearily., his hand shaking slight with fatigue as he raised the cup of tea to his mouth. ‘Radcliffe only gave me warning of the move yesterday afternoon and we had to repaid the equipment at the same time. I can’t repeat what the staff think about it.’
‘I can imagine,’ returned the Governor. ‘Being uprooted from Lytham to Cumbria at a moment’s notice isn’t something to get excited about. I can’t understand why the Government ordered the move. How soon can we get started?’
‘It’s not quite that simple,’ stated the other man glumly. ‘all the invited participants are arriving at Lytham as we speak. We’ve had to hire two coaches to bring them here. Until they get here nothing can be done.’
‘Presumably it’ll be possible to restart the programme later today,’ cut in Preston thoughtfully.
‘That’s correct but my staff are at full stretch. I mean they had to work on the repair right through the night. It’s not fair to make them work like donkeys.’
‘The whole thing’s very inconvenient,’ muttered the Governor irately. ‘In Lytham, they could book in at a hotel after being exchanged and stay there for a couple of days to orientate themselves with their new bodies. Here, in Cumbria, there’s nothing available for mile.’
‘The whole affair’s a shamble,’ groaned the Chief Scientist. ‘It certainly hasn’t been thought out properly, that’s for sure.’
‘And I’m in limbo,’ declared Preston with an element of rancour in his voice. ‘I’m at the end of my term as a prison governor because I’ll have no prisoners to guard after the next twenty-four hours and I haven’t been informed of any change in my employment. For all I know, I’ll be made redundant tomorrow... especially if the Press get hold of the exchange programme.’
‘They can’t be that disorganised to dispense with a man of your ability,’ exclaimed the Chief Scientist.
‘I wouldn’t be too certain about that,’ countered the Governor flatly. ‘They really don’t know what they’re doing. As Jesus said in the Bible: ‘Forgive them for they know not what they do!’’
At that moment the telephone rang and Preston answered the call.
‘Jordan here,’ said the voice at the other end of the line. ‘I’m sorry for all the hoo-hah,’ he apologised although his voice sounded anything but sincere. ‘Jeremy Ratcliffe, the Minister of Science, arrived unannounced at the laboratory yesterday afternoon to land us with this almighty upheaval. It seems that the Government had this in mind a month ago but they failed to tell anyone about it. No doubt you’re wondering about your role in this debacle. Well let me tell you that you’re not to concern yourself about your future. There’ll be a fax message coming through to you later to explain everything. I just thought I’d give you a ring to tell you the position.’
‘Thank you, Mr. Jordan,’ returned the Governor politely not knowing whether to believe the government agent or not. ‘I’ll look forward to receiving it.’
‘I know that we can all rely on you, Preston,’ There was a pause before he continued. ‘Has all the equipment arrived safely?’
‘It has,’ confirmed the Governor, with a hint of tiredness in his voice. ‘The Chief Scientist’s here with me now. Would you like a word with him?’
‘Not necessary,’ came the reply. ‘I’ll leave it all in your good hands. Catch you later!’
The line went dead as the government agent ended the conversation abruptly and Preston shook his head slowly.
‘They’re sending me a
fax message about my appointment in the project later. I tell you truthfully, I don’t like it.’ he told the Chief Scientist. ‘I think he’s dangling me on a piece of string like a puppet.’
The other man nodded his head in agreement, ‘Can you point me to an empty cell where I can put my head down for a few hours,’ he managed to say, blinking his eyes as the lids began to close. ‘When I was young, I used to go to all-night parties. I can’t stay up all night any more.’
‘Come with me,’ stated Preston, leading the man from the office to one of the empty cells and pointing to the bed inside. ‘It’s not very comfortable but I don’t suppose you care too much abut that. I promise not to lock you in,’ he concluded with an element of humour in his voice.
The Chief Scientist dismissed the comment completely, flinging himself onto the bed and falling asleep almost instantly.
Preston returned to the main hall of the jail, ordering his warders to do whatever they could to help the scientists install the equipment although there was relatively little that they could do. The erection of the marquee and the installation of the two cubicles were the main items and they were established quite swiftly. The rest of the heavy equipment was shipped in on a large trolley and placed near to the two cubicles. The only thing that remained was the connecting cables to the two cubicles. Consequently, the Governor retreated to his office taking the four warders, who were still employed at the jail, with him.
‘We’re on a hiding to nothing here,’ stated Preston sadly. ‘I’m waiting for a fax message to tell me what we’re supposed to do here. We have just over one hundred prisoners and they should all be exchanged within the next twenty-four hours. Until then, unless someone tells me what’s going on, we’re in limbo.’
‘Who’s going to be in charge of the operation?’ asked one of the warders.
The Governor stared at him trying to form a reply. ‘There’s a government agent by the name of Jordan who supposedly is in control but he claims he’s just an agent for the Government.’ The Minister of Science denies all knowledge of the programme. To tell you the truth, I don’t really know what to think. As far as you’re concerned, you may be required here in the role of security guards. I have no idea whether they’re going to send the security guards here from Lytham or not.’ He threw his hands up in the air in despair. ‘Your guess on any of this is as good as mine. I suggest that we soldier on until we’re informed of further developments.’
