by Stan Mason
‘I suppose he’ll do for a start,’ agreed West with the glimmer of a smile on his face. You’ll never know who’ll climb on to the bandwagon. Give me a little while and you’ll have your web-sit.
He played with the keys of his computer, using the mouse to travel across the screen, and eventually sat back with satisfaction showing on his face.
‘Okay,’ he informed his visitor, ‘we’re on-line. What do you want to say?’
‘Move over and I’ll type it directly on to the machine,’ Jordan told him, sitting at the computer as West stood up to allow him to sit in his place. The government agent’s hands poised over the keys before he began to tap out his message, reading the words as they appeared on the screen.
“People of Britain! You may be unaware of a Government project which is used to exchange the bodies of prisoners serving life sentences in jail and mentally disturbed patients in institutions. They exchange them with eminent people in various fields of operation. It has now been proved that the experiment is a complete failure and people are either dead or dying by the hundreds. I am forming a group to demonstrate with the intention of closing down the operation entirely, saving the lives of many people in the future. The Government is responsible for killing hundreds of innocent people and they have to be stopped. Will you support me in the cause?”
He sat back to read what he had typed with Colin West looking over his shoulder. The computer expert nodded his agreement.
‘You realise that no one knows who you are and no one can contact you,’ he told him.
Jordan screwed up his face as he realised the situation. ‘What use is that?’ he asked.
West smiled easily. ‘You don’t need to be contacted. The people who read this will do it for you. You do realise you’ll be swamped by groups with a cause in mind that differs from yours,’ he said sagely. ‘They’ll crawl out of the woodwork from every corner of the world. Football hooligans... those against abortion... even terrorists. But at least your message will get through to those who matter. Are you ready to go ahead.’
‘It’s a chance I have to take,’ returned Jordan. ‘I welcome anyone who can help me. Press the button!’
West shrugged his shoulders. ‘I think you might need to get that prison Governor you mentioned on your side before you go any further.’
‘I’ll go and see him tomorrow. Now that the message had been placed on the web-site the bit was between his teeth... he was at the helm of the ship determined to see it through before a horrid thought came into mind. ‘Isn’t there the chance that the Government will wipe out the web-site when they discover it?’ he asked with concern.
‘Don’t take me for a fool!;’ snarled the computer expert with indignation. ‘This web-site is already established in all countries throughout the world. The Government may close down the one in Britain but I’ve ensure that it remains in every other country. Worry ye not! You leave the computing side to me. I’m sure that Russia and many other countries will become extremely excited about it.’
‘But I want to stop it not to increase its popularity!’
‘Wake up to the real world, chum. It’s every man for himself,’ stated West bluntly.
Jordan left his colleague with a dichotomy of problems. On the one hand, he hoped to be able to stop the programme; on the other hand, West was right. Other countries would leap at the chance of getting the equipment for their own ends. His next move was to visit Lancaster jail.
Bill Preston sat alone in his room in the prison. He was very unhappy at the decision to remove all the inmates and even more angry that their bodies were exchanged and a number of them had died. He heard about the Capella units and shook his head sadly. What next would the Government come up with in this train of disastrous events?
‘The Lord only knows,’ he muttered to himself. His mind went to the two American prisoners who had died at the last body exchange. Their bodies had been taken away to an unknown destination. They could not be left to rot at Lancaster jail. His present problem was boredom. When he had five hundred prisoners, his life was busy. Now they had all gone, there was nothing left for him to do and he didn‘t particularly wish to be on his own all the time. He had heard nothing more about the plans to close down the prison. It appeared that it was a non-priority project according to the Government.
Consequently, when the bell rang at the front gate, he welcomed the arrival of a visitor. He went down to answer the call and faced Jordan who wore a miserable expression on his face.
‘To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit,’ asked the Governor whimsically. He recognised that each time he come into contact with the government agent something would change his life . What could it be this time?
Jordan walked through the gate and Preston led him to his office, sitting down behind his desk waiting for the hammer to fall. He pointed to a chair on the other side of his desk and the visitor sat down awkwardly.
‘Your body language tells me that you’re either going to tell me something that I won’t like to hear or that you’re after a favour,. Which is it to be?‘ ventured Preston hesitantly.
‘It’s the latter,’ stated Jordan. ‘I want to ask you for your help.’
‘To do what? I’m a prison governor but you’ve denuded me of all the inmates with your damned programme. Why should I assist you in whatever you want to do?’ The response came very sternly in an exceedingly critical manner.
‘Because you have to, Mr. Preston,’ urged the visitor. ‘I want to put an end to the body exchange programme. It’s got to stop!’
‘Why tell me?’ asked the Governor sharply. ‘I’m merely a prison governor. At least I used to be. What can I do about your cause?’
‘The process was moved here from Lytham St. Annes. You know all the ins-and-outs. You’ve witnessed many prisoners dying here after the exchange. With your support, I may be able to do it.’
‘And what kind of plan do you propose to initiate to stop the process.?’ asked Preston casually, unwilling to raise a finger to help the other man.
‘I’ve just started a web-site on the Internet outlining what’s happened so far. I’ve brought it to the notice of everyone in the world asking them to support me in the cause. I know they will. I’ll build and build until people start to ask questions and hold protests if they unsatisfied with the answers. The public will soon be aware of it all and I’m certain they’ll be up in arms about it when they learn the truth. Eventually push will come to shove and the public will insist that the programme’s stopped.’
‘If you have the world on your side, where do I come in?’ enquired Preston with an element of concern in his voice, very reluctant to be drawn into the scheme.
‘You’re the Governor of Lancaster jail which no longer has any prisoners. You’ve witnessed the body exchange programme here. You can back me up on everything I say.’
Preston screwed up his face with distaste at the idea. It was really no skin off his nose if people died through the body exchange programme yet, on the other hand, he felt that he had a moral conviction to help stop it. He paused for a long time allowing the idea to run through his mind, and then he leaned forward on his desk resolutely.
‘Very well,’ he stated reluctantly. ‘You have my blessing. I’ll support you.’
‘Great!’ exclaimed Jordan joyfully. ‘I know a man by the name of Colin West who’s a computer expert. He’s created web-sites all over the world passing on a message that I wrote to bring the matter to everyone’s attention. It’s only just go on the web but shortly there’ll be a lot of reaction, I’m certain. It’s the right way forward.’
‘All I can say to you is good luck,’ declared Preston quietly, wondering how deeply he would find himself in hot water for his effort.
Jordan left Lancaster jail with an element of satisfaction even though everything was up in the air. He was delight
ed to have the Governor’s support although he was unsure what he could do with it. He was beginning to get ahead of himself and realised that he had to slow down. Presumably, Preston would be able to write his own story on the web-site but would he really do so? He seemed rather reluctant but then the government agent presented him with a request of an unusual nature. The man needed time to think it through. Jordan suddenly felt nervous about his actions. What if people considered his message to be a hoax, or they thought it was some kind of prank, or maybe they thought it to be trouble-making for the Government? If no one took him seriously, he would fall at the first fence!
When he returned to Colin West, the computer expert stared at him with a broad smile on his face.
‘You’ve only gone a short while yet there’s been over six hundred hits on the site,’ he informed his colleague. ‘We’re well on our way. I reckon that by this time next week there’ll be a few thousand supporters... maybe a lot more!’
‘Really!’ exclaimed Jordan with surprise. The adrenalin began to race through his body at the sudden success rate. If Colin West was to be believed, there would be thousands of protestors against the Government and questions would be asked. It was almost too good to be true! He needed to plan for the next stage of the operation without fail if he was to succeed. With hope in his heart, he went home and sat in his lounge with a blank sheet of paper in front of him and a pen in his hand. There was an awful lot to do... contact with people, banners to be made, a strategy and tactics to work out., as well as the timing and locations. Yes, indeed, there was an awful lot to be done!
***
During the next week, more messages were placed on the web-site describing the horrid practices involved in the body exchange programme and the devastation it had caused to hundreds of people who had gone through the process. Thousands of bloggers climbed on to the web-site incensed by what had been happening and storm clouds began to gather over the actions of the Government in this particular matter.
The government agent recognised that many people adding their comments to his message were trouble-makers, out to undertake any harm they could to the establishment. Others were following causes which had nothing to do with the body exchange programme but were merely striking out against the Government, or for reasons of personal vengeance. Nonetheless they added to the numbers as they were all willing to support him. By the end of the week the numbers had grown large and it was time to move on to the next stage.
However an approach to Bill Preston at Lancaster jail provided nothing in response. When the Governor read Jordan’s message about the vast number of people willing to respond to the cause, he took fright, got cold feet, and immediately backed out of his promise of support. He had anticipated that the web-page would be seen by few people and that he could hide behind something that wasn’t going to materialise. However the opposite had happened. Now that it had turned into a full-blown affair, he preferred to remain out of the picture altogether. Consequently, he failed to respond to the request. However, the prison Governor’s reluctance to come forward to stamp his mark on the case failed to hamper the efforts of the government agent. The situation was already too well advanced while the supporters on the web-site were well ahead of the game.
Not surprisingly, the web-site soon came to the attention of the authorities and Jeremy Ratcliffe was informed about it at an early date,. He ran through the message of the government agent not knowing that he had written it, and he looked at some of the volume of remarks of supporters. Without hesitation, he arranged for the web-site to be closed down immediately hoping that it would die a death. However Colin West had been far too astute by running the web-site so that it still remained on the Internet in every country with the exception of Britain.
Hence, the number of people showing interest continued to increase and Jordan decided to set a date for a massive demonstration against the Government outside the laboratory at Lytham St., Annes, He contacted the Press and television news teams knowing full well that he would be easily recognised by the Minister of Science for his part in the demonstration. Nonetheless he pressed on with undue haste.
He decided that the fifth of September would be the day when all the demonstrator would come together and he advised the Press and the media of his intentions. It would give him one week to prepare all the things that needed to be done. He arranged with Colin West to produce a new web-site to inform all the supporters of the details. This message was issued to everyone throughout the world and Jordan waited for the day to arrive. However it was Robbie Burns who quoted that ‘the best laid plans of mice and men, gang aft agley’... and so it was for the government agent. Many battles in history have been lost by those in control who had hesitated to put their plan immediately into action. Jordan had prepared the demonstration with the utmost care but he hesitated for too long. His timing was out by a very small proportion, and that delay was the fly in the ointment. Instead of arranging for the demonstration to go ahead without delay, he hesitated putting off the event for a whole week. It was just the time that the Government needed so urgently to cover up the programme and Ratcliffe took distinct advantage like any other successful leader in battle.
To say that the office of the Minister of Science had become a hive of industry was an understatement. Bulletins were received by the hour, fax messages rattled their way on machines by the bushel, while staff came and went in and out of the office like male drones flying to and from a beehive. All the telephones in the room rang non-stop as public indignation arose from the closing of the web-site and people demanded answers to the body exchange programme. As a result, every one of the reception staff had to man the parapets. In addition to the questions by telephone and fax messages, angry callers berated the Government for its alleged misdemeanours.
The Minister of Science sat calmly behind his desk like a seasoned politician completely unfazed by the movement of people in and out of his office or the condemnation denouncing the Government or its actions in the reports and messages. It had become quite clear that his position with regard to the body exchange programme had become untenable and the system would have to be arrested. Alternatively the Government would be brought to its knees when the truth finally emerged. However, he was in politics which allowed him the licence to deceive the public and escape from the predicament before it became a dilemma.
At eleven o’clock that day, the private telephone rang in the Minister’s office and his secretary buzzed him urgently.
‘The Prime Minister’s on the line,’ she told him. ‘Are you in or out?’
The Minster for Science had expected the call much earlier and, despite his concern, he was prepared to answer it. ‘Put him through!’ he ordered, swallowing hard as he waited for the barrage to come from the senior man.
‘Ratcliffe!’ snapped the Prime Minister. ‘What the hell’s going on? My office is inundated with enquiries about a body exchange programme. You’d better fill me in!’
The Minister of Science explained in detail about the experiment, surprised that his Leader claimed to know nothing about it, when he should have been informed weeks ago. ‘In view of all the caffuffle and the danger of Press and media attention, I’m arranging to close it all down immediately. It will appear as though it never happened.’
‘Good!’ returned the senior man. ‘We don’t need trouble of this kind when the polls show that our percentage for the next election is slipping. End the process in its entirety without delay! The laboratory at Lytham St. Annes must be dismantled and turned into something else very quickly. I want this matter to die an immediate death. Do you understand? And I want you to represent the Government on television and answer all the Press questions disclaiming all knowledge of this vile accusation against the Government.’
Ratcliffe replied affirmatively having already put the plan into motion and he returned the telephone receiver into its cradle thoughtfully. So the Prime Minis
ter did know about the programme after all. There was no need for the senior man to give him instructions. He knew exactly what to do. It had to be wound up hurriedly. The message from the Prime Minister merely gave him the authority to take action. His hand moved to his mobile telephone and he dialled a number.
‘Gallagher,’ he uttered when the call was answered. ‘I want you and your team to dismantle the whole laboratory at Lytham St. Annes. Get some builders in after you’ve emptied it to turn it into anything but a laboratory. Turn it into offices. It must be done by the end of today... I repeat, by the end of today! I want that place turned into something like insurance offices. Is that understood?’
There was agreement at the other end of the line. ‘Rest assured, sir, it’ll be done by the end of the day,’ responded Gallagher confidently before ending the conversation. He had been employed to undertake emergency work many times in the past and he was paid handsomely for his efforts. This was simply another urgent task to accomplish and he began to organise it immediately.
One hour later, Gallagher turned up at the laboratory with eight large trucks and a dozen men entered the building like an invading army.
‘Who are you? What do you want here?’ demanded the Chief Scientist who had not been informed of the plan. He became quite alarmed as the men began to dismantle the cubicles and carry them out to the trucks.
‘If you don’t know, you’d better contact the Minister of Science,’ advised Gallagher. ‘He’ll put you in the picture. To cut to the chase, we’ve been given orders to eliminate all evidence of whatever’s been going on here and to turn the place into offices.’
The Chief Scientist stared at him in dismay. ‘There must be some mistake. I suggest you hold fire until I telephone him.’
However Gallagher was unwilling to halt the process and, while the Chief Scientist went to make the telephone call, he indicated to his men to continue the work.
A dozen men descended on the laboratory ostensibly from nowhere. They were builders, carpenters and plasterers who cam to undertake a complete makeover to transfer the change of use with a great deal of urgency, working at remarkable speed. Within two hours, every vestige of the body exchange programme had been removed and partitions were delivered to be put into place so that the laboratory suddenly took on the appearance of the offices of a commercial company. After changing the nature of the place, the desks, the filing cabinets and several telephones were installed, Gallagher used his mobile telephone to make a call and, an hour later, four vans pulled up outside the building. Eighteen men and women alighted to find their way inside and sit at the desks. They all carried holdalls which contained a mass of paperwork and they placed them on the desks and in the filing cabinets. It appeared, without doubt, that a business was in progress. At the same time, Gallagher had place a large sign above the entrance which read: “SOVEREIGN INSURANCE COMPANY LIMITED!. He was so good at his job, the man was worth his weight in gold!
