by Terry Morgan
CHAPTER 61
It was Monday. Kevin had reluctantly postponed his lecture on Thomas Telford that he had been looking forward to giving to first year students. On the advice of Tom Weston he had also not attended his MPs so-called "meet the constituents" evening on Friday.
"I warn you, Kevin. She's a waste of space. You'll get nowhere. She won't even understand what you're talking about. If you're having a problem getting IVF treatment on the NHS she's red hot because she's had it herself, but don't expect much comprehension of what you want to talk about. In fact, she'll probably phone social services mental health team after you've left and ask them to come and check you out. Not only that, but she'll time you and her PA listening outside the door will phone her mobile just as you're getting going to deliberately ruin the flow.
"No, you come with me, Kevin. We'll do things proper, like, and have a chat with Lord Peterson. If there's anyone who might know where to go or what strings to pull it'll be Bill. Meantime I'll do a spot of reading."
So Kevin was feeling highly dependent on an eighty year old second hand book shop owner and retired biology teacher to carry out the few responsibilities he had agreed to take on at the meeting with Daniel, Larry and Colin. It was doing nothing to improve the mood of despondency he had been suffering from for nearly a week. He hadn't even checked his Malthus website for days. Not only that but Tom had brought a large pile of science papers to read on the train up from Bristol and barely spoke for the whole journey. Instead, as he read the papers, he casually handed them to Kevin as if Kevin was interested in the latest advances in genetically modified oil seed rape. Kevin was glad when they arrived at Paddington Station when he suddenly found a use.
"Give me a hand, Kevin. Bloody steps. Why don't they have floors that lower like on the buses?"
Kevin had only been to the Houses of Parliament once and that was with a group of students. But Tom seemed to know where to go and what to do. Walking surprisingly quickly with his stick in one hand and a buff coloured folder in the other, Tom made a few enquiries, asked someone to phone Lord Peterson to say they had arrived and then they waited. Tom was given a seat to sit on. Kevin was left standing.
As the current Chairman of the House of Lords Science and Technology Committee Lord Peterson was much younger than Kevin had imagined. Perhaps it was the mental image of hereditary peers he still harboured or the fact that even politicians had started to look young these days, but Kevin cheered up a little. Introductions over, Peterson led the way.
"I've reserved us a space over in Portcullis House," he said as they walked. "You look as sprightly as ever, Tom. How long is it since we last met? Don't tell me, two years. I was in Bristol - couldn't possibly have missed visiting the bookshop."
Security and other time consuming formalities over, they finally sat in a corner of a large room clearly meant for large scale committee meetings. A tray of coffee and biscuits was ready waiting. Kevin looked around. Tom put his folder on the table.
"So, science and biology is still running thick and fast in your old veins is it Tom, and what's all this about research on viruses needing better controls. Don't we do enough these days?" Peterson said.
"No," said Tom abruptly, "nothing like enough." Then he sat back in his chair and placed his hands firmly on the table in front of him, the folder, at least for the moment, irrelevant.
"Malthus Society, Bill," he began. "Remember we once chatted about it? We're the dedicated followers of a fashion that never really fades away - innocent fans and groupies of Thomas Malthus, Paul Eyrlich and others who once spoke the truth and nothing but the truth. They got ignored then and they still get ignored because political leaders are only interested in getting re-elected and are afraid to both discuss and act on any of the biological challenges facing the human race."
Lord Peterson, Bill, smiled.
"I'm a founder member of the Malthus Society, Bill. Kevin here runs the website. Now don't ask me about websites because I haven't a clue, but it's got a membership now running into thousands across the globe. Naturally it has attracted its fair share of nutcases over the years but there's one nutcase that's causing us a big headache and making Kevin here look more than a bit depressed at present.
"The nutcase is called David Solomon. He once worked as a senior scientist for an American biotechnology company and his hobby was very similar to Kevin's and mine - studying the effects of population growth on world economies and the environment - the sort of stuff I've researched since the fifties and sixties.
"But Solomon is also one of these clever virologists who, with their modern technology, can pick up a virus as if it's a piece of Lego. They pull out a couple of bricks, replace them with a couple more with a different shape or colour and then sit back and play around with it. In the trade they call it "gain of function" research. As a biologist I call it bloody dangerous if it's in the wrong hands. And this is where the question of adequate controls comes in.
"In my opinion, and I know I'm far from alone here, virologists are going down a blind alley and the powers that be are blindly letting them go down that alley, which is tantamount to acquiescing. The end game could be viruses far more dangerous than the Spanish flu strain or anything else we've experienced before.
"But Solomon not only has a particular interest in gain of function research but he seems to have spent all his spare time slowly radicalising himself into becoming what I would call, for lack of a suitable word, a bio-terrorist. Solomon is hell-bent on taking direct to action to reduce the human population. His plan is to use a highly infectious virus created in the laboratory. His argument is that we've waited too long already for politicians to act, that there are still no signs of the problem being discussed let alone taken seriously and so someone has got to do it.
"Also, like all good terrorists, his whereabouts are currently unknown. He disappeared along with a few other virologists a year or so ago. That alone should have been enough to ring alarm bells."
Tom removed his hands from the table and then lay them firmly in his lap. His eyes had barely left Peterson's face.
"Now terrorists, from what little I know of them, Bill, do not usually act alone. To do anything significant they normally need financial backers and a way to deliver their weapon to their targets. My friend Kevin, along with some colleagues, is gradually building evidence about who these others are."
Peterson fidgeted slightly. Tom noticed and did his own fidget. There was a slight pause.
"We're into a very long and complicated scenario here, Bill, so please hear us out. Let me summarise the current situation:
"One - evidence exists of a group of businesses operating in Africa and the Middle East who intend to release a new virus that causes a fatal, flu-like illness. Why? Because they also have a unique drug that they claim is a treatment. They want to spread the virus to sell the drug. They see huge profits. Evidence suggests that one of the companies is run by a wealthy man on a number of wanted lists for fraud and worse. Then there is a dubious sounding Arab company with money and networks. The technical expertise comes from David Solomon.
"Two - the virus has already been spotted by WHO because there have been a few localised outbreaks. But WHO have said very little. Evidence through Kevin's contacts suggest these outbreaks may have been field tests carried out by the company or Solomon. There is also evidence that someone somewhere with a sense of humour has decided to call the new virus 'Malthus A - Respiratory Virus'.
"Three - what we have here is mounting evidence of a conspiracy to spread a lethal virus created artificially by a scientist with known extreme views on direct action to reduce the world population using a group of companies with international networks of distributors run by a man who sounds to me like a mafia Don."
Tom sat forward and placed his hands back on the table.
"Now," he said, "Who will sit and listen in depth to the growing amount of evidence? Is it you, Bill? If not who, in the official UK political order of things, should know
about all this? Does the UK have a system in place for dealing with this sort of terrorism? Is it MI6? Does the EU have anything? The EU stifles most bits of commercial ingenuity by regulation so what piece of EU legislation will stifle this ingenious plot? Who can do something to stop this virus coming into the UK on board a British Airways flight from Nairobi tomorrow morning hidden in an asthma inhaler? And who is responsible internationally for dealing with a situation like this?"
Peterson leaned forward and smiled.
"If I didn't know you better, Tom, I'd have thought you were the nutcase and thrown you out."
Tom interrupted immediately. "That's precisely why I'm here with Kevin, Bill. You know me but if it was Kevin who had wandered in here straight from a lecture on Thomas Telford and dressed in his usual Liverpool FC sweater or even his best House of Lords suit you'd have thrown him out. Right Kevin?"
For the first time, Kevin said something.
"Too bloody right, Tom."
"So will you give Kevin and perhaps a few of his friends - one of whom is a private investigator of international business crime and one a doctor working for the USA Embassy in Nigeria - a chance to explain what is known so far? Because I'm damned sure that someone in the government should know. Once it knows it can then decide what to do and who will deal with it. Perhaps it's a challenge for your House of Lords Science and Technology Committee, Bill. But don't hang around too long trying to organise a proper Committee meeting with a pre-circulated agenda. Why don't you go and speak direct to the Prime Minister?"
Then Tom laughed. "The PM might actually be quite pleased to hear of an impending flu pandemic. With the Chancellor looking to make yet more budget cuts and with the virus killing off two and a half million unemployed and six million elderly people like me on state pensions it could be their salvation."
