CONDITION – Book One: A Medical Miracle

by Alec Birri

  Savage smiled at his lab rat. ‘That’s quite all right, Cecil. Think nothing of it.’

  Chapter Nine

  ‘I feel sick.’ Dan took off what appeared to be a thick sleep mask. ‘What did you call this?’

  Tony read what was on the box. ‘“Virtual Reality Glasses” – VR glasses for short.’

  ‘What’s wrong with the glasses I’ve got?’

  Tony chuckled. ‘These will do much more than help you read, Dan. You can watch movies, play games, tour famous places, you name it. They’re perfect for staving off boredom while you’re stuck in here.’

  Dan tried not to seem ungrateful. He liked Tony and assumed he always had. Lucy and he certainly appeared happy together, but Dan got the impression younger generations didn’t just use technology, they relied on it, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

  ‘I thought these portable televisions did all that.’ He pointed to the iPad by his bed, still steadily flicking through the old photographs.

  Tony tried to convert him. ‘They do, but this way you get to see everything in 3D reality – like you’re really there. How do you fancy a go on a rollercoaster?’

  Dan didn’t, but after the effort his son-in-law had gone to, thought it rude not to show at least some interest.

  Lucy put another sense of reality on the situation. ‘Don’t worry, Dad. It’s Tony’s latest toy. I’m sure he’ll enjoy spending hours playing with it, even if you don’t.’

  Her husband pursed his lips at her.

  Dan put the glasses back on and ignored the mild nausea they caused. He was presented with an image that suggested he was sitting in the front carriage of a switch-back. The scenery and track stretched away in front of him and he acknowledged it did indeed seem real.

  ‘Move your head around, Dan.’

  He did as Tony asked and was amazed to see the view extended to the left and right too. Dan turned his stiff neck as far as it would allow, but couldn’t see the edge of the picture anywhere. He looked up and down – same result.

  Tony enthused. ‘A complete three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view in all directions. Imagine if you were wearing a pair of earphones playing sounds at the funfair – you’d think you were there.’

  Dan had to admit it was impressive. He looked down at his feet, but couldn’t see them. He raised a hand in front of his face, but couldn’t see that either.

  Tony answered the obvious question. ‘I’m afraid you can only view what’s on the screen in the glasses – not right through it.’

  Dan was a little disappointed. The rollercoaster began to move along the track, and was soon whizzing along typically steep curves, climbs and descents. He unconsciously leaned side to side with the carriage which made him smile – but not for long.

  The rollercoaster came out of a loop and Dan stopped smiling, took off the glasses, and vomited in Tony’s lap. He wiped his chin on the tissue his daughter had ready and passed the glasses back to her husband.

  ‘Thanks, but no thanks.’

  Lucy looked at her other half deciding where best to start and tried not to enjoy his distress too much.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘I thought that was a lovely thing you did yesterday.’

  Dan looked up from his iPad to see Alice being parked beside him. Her appearance took him aback. For someone eleven years into their second century the change was remarkable – positively radiant. Her recovery from dementia didn’t make her look any younger, but certainly made Dan think the professor deserved more than his thanks, and told her so.

  ‘It was the least I could do. The guy deserves a peerage, if you ask me. Just think what the end of Alzheimer’s disease will mean to the lives of literally billions of people. And I’m not just talking about those with the disease itself – carers, too.’

  A picture of Claire appeared on the iPad for a few seconds, and Dan wished they’d both been born ten years later. The next image took its turn in the sequence – standing outside their first home together.

  ‘Is that your wife?’

  Dan nodded. He tried to swipe the screen to show Alice a studio portrait of Claire, but the device refused to exit the slideshow.

  Alice seemed to sense his frustration. ‘I know. My great-grandson has one of those things and insists that because it can do more than a photograph album, it’s somehow better, but give me a snap you can hold in your hand any day. How are you supposed to put that into a locket?’

  She reached round the back of her neck and pulled a chain up and over her head to reveal a silver heart-shaped pendant at the end of it. She prised the two halves apart and offered it to him. ‘My first husband – killed at Ypres.’

  Dan studied the traditional black and white image of a mustachioed gentleman in uniform. A lock of hair resided under a pane of glass in the other half. Dan would have given anything for a lock of Claire’s hair.

  ‘I’ve been married five times since then, but you never forget your first love.’

  Dan chuckled. ‘I wondered where that glint in your eye came from. Six marriages! The professor and you should be ennobled together.’

  Alice glanced at the entrance to the conservatory as if willing someone to walk through it. ‘Well, he does have a certain something about him.’

  Dan burst out laughing. ‘Got to hand it to you, girl, you certainly think life is for living!’

  She gave him a look that implied it was her business to put men in a particular order and, if the professor wasn’t available, Dan could well be the next most suitable candidate on her list. He winced inside and changed the subject.

  ‘That MP didn’t seem very impressed with him, for some reason.’

  Alice’s response indicated she didn’t stray far from her vocation for long. ‘Oh, her. She has no chance with him. I can tell he’s the kind of caring gentleman who would have tried to let her down gently, but you know how some women can be.’

  Dan didn’t. He’d only known Claire and, if he were to be honest, became uncomfortable when alone with members of the opposite sex, and, even though there were others around, he felt just as intimidated now.

  ‘Of course, all disabled people should be suffocated at birth.’

  Dan’s mouth fell open. He considered laughing politely at what he thought was a tasteless joke, but her expressionless face suggested something far more serious – Alice seemed to want to put her fantasy love rival down, and not just verbally. If he had any doubts about that, she soon removed them.

  ‘Nature can be cruel to many people and in so many ways, and the sooner their misery is ended, the better.’ She leaned forward as if to confide in him. ‘Medical men like Sir John are capable of expressing kindness in many ways.’

  Dan was lost for words. For a moment, he wondered if she’d switched sides between global conflicts and one of her husbands had been a Nazi eugenicist. He didn’t want to get into an argument, so tried reverse psychology instead.

  ‘Many people would say nature has been cruel to us, Alice. Do you think Sir John should express his kindness towards you and me too?’

  She appeared to consider it before breaking into a smile that, in light of her shocking comments, made her look far more monstrous than any illusion he’d had of her.

  ‘He has, Dan.’ Her eyes passed over the other patients. ‘We’re the chosen ones.’

  A nurse brought Alice’s tablets over and Dan breathed a sigh of relief. Of course. Just like Gary’s ramblings of subservient contentment earlier, her treatment was a work in progress too. Surgery involving the brain must cause many more psychological anomalies than just hallucinations – temporary, albeit extreme, changes in personality had to be expected too. Especially with Alzheimer’s.

  Dan admonished himself for being so quick to jump on the treatment as a done deal, just because he appeared to have be
en cured. Maybe he’d gone through a similar personality change and was just as unaware of it as Alice and Gary? No – Lucy would have said something.

  Alice decided to take the pills in her room and the nurse wheeled her away. Dan realised he still had her locket and went to call her back, but they’d already left the conservatory. He was wondering what to do with it when the lady with the love of television drama caught his eye.

  She waved for Dan to join her, which took him straight back to when she’d confused his questions about the aircraft crash with a soap opera she’d been watching at the time. Dan hesitated, but decided she had to be as compos mentis as the rest of them by now. And anyway, he was curious to see if another sweet little old lady had inadvertently been turned into a temporary racist or something.

  She pointed at Alice’s pendant as he drew up next to her. ‘May I have a look?’

  Dan passed it over and she opened it.

  ‘Did she tell you this was a picture of her husband?’

  ‘Her first of six! Not bad, eh? One hundred and eleven next month too!’

  ‘If the photograph is from the Great War and is of who she says it is, then she would have to be a lot older than that.’

  Dan did the calculation – she was right. The locket must have belonged to Alice’s mother, in which case the picture would have to be of her father, and not her first husband. He felt sorry for her again.

  ‘You’re Dan, aren’t you? How do you do; my name’s Nadira.’

  Dan was embarrassed. Not only did her maths prove dementia no longer featured in her life but, unlike him, she’d remembered her manners, too. He shook her outstretched hand and tried to make amends.

  ‘Nadira’s a lovely name. Where’s it from?’

  She told him – along with her life story – and when it started with how each set of grandparents met, Dan scoured the room for a polite excuse to escape.

  Tracy entered the conservatory and he tried to catch her eye. He missed it. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Nadira had paid him any attention while she nattered away but, to add insult to injury, she kept on looking at the television. Nadira actually had the nerve to say ‘Shush!’ when something of interest to her appeared on it. At least it shut her up for a few seconds. Dan looked to see what was so important.

  It seemed like decades since he’d last watched a television, and he certainly didn’t care for soaps, but when Dan recognised the person being featured, he gave it his full attention. The programme was about voluntary euthanasia and how a recent parliamentary vote on the legalisation of it had failed. The interviewer was talking to the very same visiting dignitary from the day before – Alexandra Salib MP. Dan was just becoming interested in her diatribe of words like ‘dinosaurs’ and ‘out of touch’ when Nadira began talking again. Any notion he had of her being a polite little old Indian lady evaporated.

  ‘Well, that’s it then. May as well cut my wrists now.’

  Dan was tempted to say Shush! to her too, but thought better of it. He tried to catch Tracy’s eye again to see if he could get her to increase the volume, but then stopped himself – not because he’d lost interest in what the MP had to say on the subject of a good death, but because Nadira’s words worried him.

  ‘I’m ninety-nine years old. No family. No future. No life. So what’s the point in going on? If the government’s not prepared to end it, then I will.’

  As a recent suicide risk himself, Dan had sympathy, even empathy for her words, but they still shocked him – her recovery couldn’t have been as advanced as he thought. He attempted to reassure her.

  ‘I know how powerful the feeling of wanting to take your own life can be, Nadira, but, trust me, I went through exactly the same torment and it’s just a phase of the treatment. Once the red pill has done its work, you’ll be fine. I promise.’ He wondered if she was on a suicide watch.

  ‘Leave ’er alone.’

  A walking stick prodded Dan’s chest. He looked along its length to see a man he didn’t know at the other end.

  ‘Nad ’n’ me are goin’ to Dignitas, aren’t we, darlin’?’

  Dan’s instinct was to snatch the walking stick out of the stranger’s hand, but thought better of it, as that would most likely end with the two of them fighting on the floor. Not with each other, but for breath. He made a more dignified approach and put out his hand.

  ‘I don’t believe we’ve met – my name’s Squadron Leader Dan Stewart.’

  ‘Piss off, ponce. Go ’n’ find your own gurl to die wiv’.’

  Dan could see he was about to be assaulted with the stick again but felt he had no choice this time – he grabbed it. Dan was both relieved and pleased to see it come away from the geriatric thug’s hand, who promptly collapsed back into a chair. A clutched chest and look of discomfort did worry Dan but much to his relief, it then turned back to a scowl, allowing him to enjoy the moment – but not for long. The stick was snatched out of Dan’s hand and he looked up to see Tracy holding it.

  ‘Bully! Why don’t you hit him over the head while you’re at it?’

  She gave the stick back to its owner. Dan seethed. He attempted to redress the situation.

  ‘If you women made use of the fabled eyes in the back of your head, you’d have seen him attack me with it first!’

  Tracy ignored him and did what any nurse would do – go to the aid of the person most in need. Dan was about to comment on the unfairness of that when Nadira reached over to console the assailant too. Dan groaned. Justice was never going to be his.

  The petty incident aside, both Nadira and her uncouth boyfriend’s words made Dan think potential suicide was perhaps the most troubling aspect to the cure for Alzheimer’s disease. Hallucinations and personality changes were one thing, but taking your own life before the treatment had had a chance to work was clearly far more serious. What was the point of a miracle that restarted life, only for the recipient to then end it? He wondered what the ‘Dig…’ thing was.

  He spotted Alice being pushed back into the conservatory and went to retrieve her pendant. It was being held out to him.

  ‘Thank you, Nadira.’

  She held on to his hand. ‘Who’s Nadira?’

  For a second, Dan questioned whether she’d even had surgery, let alone the medication. He dismissed her question as a one-off and made his way over to the locket’s owner. He was rewarded with a smile as he handed it back. Although her earlier comments about Alex Salib had been unacceptable, Dan still pitied Alice, and wondered who the person in the photograph was.

  ‘Alice, it’s your one-hundred and eleventh birthday soon. You weren’t even born when the First World War started, so that person couldn’t possibly be your husband.’

  She regarded him with the same look he gave Nadira.

  ‘Alice? You’re confusing me with my daughter. I’m her mother, Elizabeth.’

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘Tell me what you’re up to.’

  Savage looked at the top right-hand corner of The Daily Telegraph. ‘Page eleven apparently.’

  ‘You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. When a significant number of stock market shares are bought unexpectedly in one particular sector, people take notice. Especially when that sector has nothing whatsoever to do with the purchaser’s expertise or insider knowledge.’

  The professor gave the Secretary of State for Business his full attention. ‘Well, thanks to your ridiculously restrictive laws, I’m forbidden from making significant investments in my own companies, so forced to look elsewhere to supplement a meagre pension.’

  The Right Honourable Tarquin Asquith-Bennington MP had known Professor Sir John Savage, KBE FRCS FMedSci, since they were at Eton together, and even though they’d always been close – very close at one time – thought him to be just as enigmatic now as he was then. The Business Secretary exp
anded on what he knew.

  ‘Nevertheless, to purchase shares in nearly every major online media company, and in amounts deliberately designed not to cause any sudden price movements, means you know something. Even some of the pseudonyms you used to hide the transactions are new – or at least the ones my spies have managed to identify are.’

  Savage folded the newspaper and placed it on the occasional table between them. ‘Still plenty of opportunity for you to invest too, Tarquin.’

  They were interrupted by the club steward. Both ordered single malts. Tarquin adopted a different approach.

  ‘What I don’t understand is, you’re a complete Luddite when it comes to social media. You don’t even have a LinkedIn account, let alone Facebook or Twitter, and yet you’ve bought nearly ten million dollars’ worth of shares in each – Google too.’

  The professor extended an index finger and pointed it towards the ceiling of the club. The minister narrowed his eyes at it.

  ‘Twenty million?’

  The professor didn’t respond and the forefinger stayed where it was.

  ‘Please don’t tell me you spent over one hundred million dollars on something you know absolutely nothing about?’

  Savage remained stoic, as did the finger. The business secretary’s jaw went slack. ‘John, where on earth did you get that kind of money? More to the point, how did you manage to hide it? I can see I’m going to have to fire a few people – you do realise what would happen if you were to suddenly dump that lot?’

  The professor reassured him. ‘Calm yourself, Tarquin. Forget the amount – think of it more as one putting one’s money where one’s mouth is. I’m sure you and the rest of the Asquith-Benningtons will come to appreciate it.’

  The minister had known the professor for long enough to be able to trust his word in all things medical, and even some business, but when it risked destabilising stock markets then that was a different matter. Even investigating what he’d done could trigger a crash, let alone a sudden disposal of the shares. Tarquin had always been a little intimidated by his friend but felt vulnerable now, too. He hoped it didn’t show and changed the subject.