by Steve Howrie
Oh shit, Sandi thought. She stood up quickly, grabbing her coat and handbag. Pulling some money from her purse she whispered urgently to Gareth, “Let’s go... now.” She dropped the change into a saucer and they made their getaway.
“I’m going to call the Police – you’re harbouring a criminal!”
They left the café without looking back, and quickly walked back along Inverleith Row. Suddenly realizing they could be leading Emily to Kate’s flat, Sandi forced Gareth to take a sharp turn into the Botanical Gardens.
“Where are we going?” he asked.”
“Anywhere safe.” They walked for about five minutes through the gardens before stopping for a rest. Finding a bench in a secluded spot, they sat down, hot and flustered.
“Do you think we lost her?” asked Gareth.
“I think so. What was that all about?” Gareth took a deep breath and proceeded to tell Sandi all about Emily – how they met, how long they’d been going together, and what he had said to her in the pub the other night.
“I suppose you thought she could be one of us – seeing things like we do, and be part of the team.” He nodded wistfully.
“At one time it seemed like that. Then she got scared. Her mother was worried about her health – what with all the scares about salt and that – and asked her to go to the doctor. She wasn’t ill, not in any way, but she wanted to put her mum’s mind at rest, y’know. Anyway, the doc says: ‘You’re putting your life in danger – don’t you know how dangerous it is going without meat and taking in so much sodium? You’re heading for a heart attack.’. Anyway, she was frightened and thought it best to be safe than sorry and when back to the animal eating and cut out salt. That’s when she changed. I think the virus took over then – we never saw eye–to–eye after that.”
“But she still wanted to see you?”
“She did. I’d like to think she still loved me. But now I know about the virus, I don’t know what’s controlling people any more. You know, another potential victim – one more human for the parasite to control and eat.” Sandi winced at the picture. Being eaten from the inside by an alien bug was not something she wanted to dwell upon. After spending nearly an hour in the gardens, watching the autumn leaves fall from the huge trees, they decided it was safe to wander back to Kate’s flat – keeping their eyes peeled along the way.
Inside the two-bedroomed apartment, Sandi put on the kettle and invited Gareth to relax in the lounge.
“Kate said I could play anything from her CD collection – so what d’you fancy?”
“I don’t suppose she’s got any Zero Seven?”
“What! You can’t be serious…”
“I know they’re not everyone’s taste,” Gareth replied defensively – a little hurt.
“No, I mean – I love Zero Seven. ‘When it Falls’ was so cool.”
“Amazing! Well, put it on then.”
Sandi made some tea, and fetched the bottle of Shiraz she’d picked up from the local corner store. They sat closely on the sofa relaxing with the warmth of the drinks and each other.
“Gareth, how did you get into all this?” He settled further back into the sofa, recalling those memories.
“I was working in a Wholefoods store off Nicolson Square, in the student area. An English guy comes in and asks for cashew nuts. I tell him the ones we have are very, very salty, and the boss had told us not to sell them. He says – great – the saltier the better, and asks for two kilos. So I say – you’re having me on, right? That much salt is harmful. He says – no, salt isn’t bad for you – quite the opposite. I asked him where he’d heard that, and he tells me he works at the University and one of his colleagues of his is doing a load of research in Microbiology and come up with some interesting results. So I’m intrigued now, right, and ask where I can read this research. He says it’s not published yet, but if I wanted to come down to the Minto Hotel at around five pm, the man would be there.
“So after I finish at five, I walk down to the Minto and there’s the English guy with his mate. Both of them sitting in a corner, chatting. The one I know gets up as soon as he sees me and buys me a drink. A pint of eighty shillings I think it was. Anyway, I find out that the one who came into the shop is Tony, and the other guy – the one who’s done all the research – is Frank. No second names, very informal and very friendly. Frank starts to tell me about his research project, and then suddenly – right out of the blue – he says, ‘Do you believe in alien life Gareth?’ I’m like, ‘Whoa – what’s this all about!’ So he repeated it, and I had to say that I did, but everyone else thinks I’m daft. And then he adds, ‘Well, the aliens have landed.’ And at that point he had me – I would have signed on the dotted line there and then, because I always knew there were aliens on this planet – only I didn’t know how fucking small they were!”
Sandi smiled as she listened to Gareth. He was like a big kid really. That was partly his attraction. Plus the fact that he was a hunk of a man.
“So you started to get involved from then on?”
“I had to – once they’d told me the situation.”
“And you never doubted it?”
“No. I can’t say I understood everything they said, but it all made so much sense. And the strange thing was, the more I stopped eating animal, the more I realized things for myself.”
“Such as?” She gently brushed his dark brown hair out of his eyes and looked at him lovingly.
“Well, animals – wild animals. Have you noticed that no matter what we do to try to protect them, they are still disappearing from this planet – and at an alarming rate. The animals have all these protection agencies, and funds set up to preserve them – yet still they are being driven to extinction. The aliens feed off the animals – they’re parasites. And once the animals have gone, Man’s next.”
Sandi didn’t hear the last few words – she had fallen asleep curled up next to Gareth. And after a few minutes, his eyes were also shut.
***
Eleven
Tony stood pouring over a map of Orkney, and pondered. It was at times like these that Frank Peters was sorely missed. Frank would be there at Tony’s side, enthusing about the future, about where they could go and what they could do. There would never be any question of whether this action was right, or that decision correct; and no concerns of what if this happened or that occurred. Not in the beginning any way.
He turned to the old, grey lady sitting in an armchair reading a magazine.
“Audrey – what do you think about going up to Orkney?”
She put down her magazine and looked over the top of her spectacles.
“You’re not going to ask me what Frank would have done, are you?” Tony gave her a sort of pinched look. “To be honest,” she continued, “I know nothing about Orkney – and nor did Frank. I’m afraid you’re on your own on this one Tony.” There was a touch of coldness in her voice, as she picked up her magazine – as if she thought that Tony only missed Frank when he could be of some use to him.
“I know it’s hard without Frank. I just want to do the right thing.”
“Frank was never concerned about ‘doing the right thing’ – he just did it,” she replied without looking up from the magazine.
At least Tony was never in any doubt about sending Kate and I to reconnoiter the area. It made sense for several reasons: Kate had been to Orkney as a child, and I was a journalist and didn’t mind probing for information about anything. Plus the fact that Tony couldn’t have missed the mutual attraction we felt for each other.
After my recent escapade in London, Tony thought it wise if I leave my car and take his – he would hide my motor until I got back. For the same reason, he suggested I leave my mobile with him, He said he had a spare – which I suspected was Frank Peters’ old phone. I thought that Tony would really have liked to go up to Orkney to explore himself; but he knew it was best for him to stay home at the ‘Control Centre’. I promised him we’d get started on settin
g up the website as soon as possible. I had contact details on my laptop for the Swedish Internet company we had discussed, and I could email Frida Stronson from Orkney.
*
It’s a straightforward, but often tiring, journey up to the Orkney Isles. The best route from Edinburgh is across the Forth Bridge, then head up North on the M90 to meet the A9 at Perth. That takes you all the way to Thurso – and the nearby port of Scrabster, from where a car ferry departs for Stromness.
Kate and I made good time after leaving Edinburgh, and after stopping off in Inverness for an hour – lazily resting on the banks of the river Ness – we arrive in Thurso after a winding, uphill road, negotiating several hairpin bends on the way. We were in time for the seven o’clock evening crossing from the port of Scrabster.
On the way up we’d talked about the past, and I asked her how she’d met the others.
“Frank was speaking at a Seminar at Glasgow University. It was on the reaction of Lymphocytes to external stimuli. Half way through his talk he threw in an astounding remark about the white cells being controlled by an alien virus. There was very little reaction to this from the rest of the audience, but it had a big effect on me. I cornered him after the Seminar and asked lots of questions. He told me he regularly held meetings at a small hotel in Edinburgh with interested people – and if I wanted to come along I’d be very welcome. I couldn’t get there fast enough. My Masters was on the causes of irrational behaviour in white blood cells, and I was intrigued by his viewpoint. I came over to the meeting at the Minto Hotel in Edinburgh, and that’s where I met Frank, Tony and Gareth.
“Why do you think you were so interested in Frank’s research when no-one else was?” I asked.
“At the time, I didn’t really think about it. I suppose I rationalized that it was right up my street – the subject of my research. But that applied to others there as well. Looking back, I think it was because it was it meant to be... almost as if the lecture was set up just for me. Oh, that sounds very self-centred, I’m sorry.”
“No no, I do know what you mean. I had the same feeling when I met Frank in London.”
“I know I’m trained as a scientist, but I believe there’s much more to life than scientific logic or reason. Ancient civilisations knew this – the Egyptians, the Greeks. They recognized there was a pattern to life – and it didn’t end with the death of the physical body.”
“Are you religious, Kate?” I asked.
“No – not at all. My parents were a little – but they never went to church. I grew up without any particular beliefs – though I could never accept that when you die that’s it. It didn’t make sense. So when I went into Science and saw all the patterns in nature, it was just too much to believe that all this came about through random events.”
“Not a Darwinist then?”
“No, not at all. But not a ‘Universe created in five days’ person either. I’d never found anyone who shared my view about the Universe – until I met Frank.”
I hadn’t known this about Frank – that he had wider views. I wondered how his philosophy fitted in with his ideas about the alien virus.
“I used to have such long discussions with Frank. I’d often miss the last train back to Glasgow, and have to stay at Audrey’s. The big question I had was this: was the introduction of the virus a random event, or was it part of an experiment?”
“An experiment!”
“Yes. If you take the view that there is Intelligent Design in the Universe, then you have to ask the question: did the intelligence allow or even arrange for the virus to come to Earth; or was this a flaw in the Intelligence… it literally didn’t see it coming? It’s a very important question. If it’s a flaw in the Intelligence, then we’re in trouble because we never know when we are at risk from unforeseen events. But if the whole thing was planned and controlled, then whatever happens the virus can never really win – it can’t spread to other Universes.”
“Unless that’s part of the plan,” I countered.
“That’s right!” Kate smiled.
The more Kate talked, the more I fell in love with her. I was drawn to her innate intelligence and beauty... where had she been all my life? I asked her what conclusion she came to regarding Intelligent Design.
“Frank and Tony were always divided on the issue, and I tended to side with Tony. We believed that the introduction of the virus was an experiment – in the same way that we would introduce viruses in the laboratory. Controlled experiments where we knew exactly what we were doing, and no harm could really be done.”
“Except to the guinea pigs,” I pointed out.
“Yes,” admitted Kate a little guiltily. She continued: “Frank, on the other hand, recognized there was some sort of Intelligent Design in the Universe, but believed that the Intelligence might not be equipped to deal with unknown threats…”
“Like the virus?”
“Exactly. And he believed that the consequences of Man being wiped out by the virus were catastrophic – and not just to this planet. This was the rift between Tony and Frank in the end. Whilst Tony was inclined to watch the experiment unfold, Frank thought the only hope was for us to take an active role and do whatever it would take to defeat the virus.
“So that took Frank off to London to do his bit?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“And now – who do you think was right?”
“I know we can’t sit back and do nothing. Whether it’s an experiment or not, if mankind is wiped out, then that’s the end for all of us, whatever way you look at it. Where the virus goes from there – if it is allowed to go anywhere – doesn’t really matter… not to us anyway.
*
Arriving in Thurso, we had time for a bite to eat before boarding the ferry and stopped at a small café before the short drive to Scrabster. Kate got us a table whilst I ordered the food. Then I noticed that there were no salt cellars to be seen in the cafe.
“It’s started,” I observed, my eyes indicating the lack of condiments. Kate nodded. The food soon arrived, and we were glad to stop moving for a while.
“What’s your angle on all this, Kevin? What do you think we should do?”
“I suppose I just want people to know the truth about the virus. After I met you all in Edinburgh, there was no question about what I should do. It wasn’t the sort of thing I could turn my back on.”
“How did you meet Sandi? Through work?”
“Yes. You probably know how it is – you work with someone, and the more time you spend together, the more you get to like them. It started with just drinks – then a movie after work. It just happened really. We liked each other, and it seemed the natural thing to get closer. The next thing I knew, we were living together.”
“And now?”
“Oh, that ended about a year ago. We’re still friends – but the relationship thing has ended. We won’t go back now. Too much has happened since then – we’ve moved on.”
Kate smiled. “Sandi and Gareth seem to be hitting it off,” she observed, changing the subject.
“Yes – just like Sandi to find a toy–boy.”
We talked about our families for a while, then finished our drinks and headed off for the Ferry.
*
Scrabster is a cold, soulless port, with the roll–on, roll–off ferry the main feature. A small hotel is located along the entrance road to the terminal and, on the cliffs above the road, stands a village. We parked the vehicle in a queue for the boat, and I left Kate in the car whilst I purchased our return tickets from the ferry office. To say the staff was unfriendly is a gross understatement. Everywhere we went, there seemed to be no warmth, no brightness or life in people – particularly in Scrabster. I talked about this with Kate as we waited to board the boat.
“It’s the virus,” she said. “People are now no more than automatons at times – you’ve probably noticed. The last time I came up here – as a child – everyone was so welcoming and friendly. Now it’s hard to
even get a smile.”
We were beckoned towards the boat by a serious–looking man, and we drove through the ship’s hull into the parking lanes. On board the ferry, people stared out of the windows or read newspapers. Nobody spoke.
As the boat departed, Kate and I left the warm cabin to stand on deck – looking back as we pulled away from the mainland. It was cold and windy in the sea air, and we were glad of our warm coats and woolly hats. Automatically, I drew her towards me. She looked up into my eyes and smiled, encouraging me to hold her closer.
The swell of the sea made the boat roll and dip. Ahead of us lay the Orkney Islands – faint outlines on the horizon. Was this to be our new home? The journey took us close to Hoy, the most mountainous of the islands, and we marvelled at the Old Man of Hoy, a sandstone sea stack standing 137 metres high. Time passed quickly, and it wasn’t long before we were heading toward the town of Stromness – and old fishing port on the West side of the Main island.
It was nine in the evening by the time we drove off the boat, and we decided to stop in Stromness before driving to Kirkwall, the main town of the County, the next day. Kate remembered a small hotel in Stromness where she had stayed with her parents, and fortunately they had a room for the night. The owner was surprisingly friendly and hospitable, and it made me wonder if the virus had not penetrated this far north. I surmised that the sea air would not be to its liking. Our room was warm and comfortable, and after the long journey, fresh sea air, and two large brandies, we drifted off soundly to sleep.
*
The next morning after breakfast, we packed our bags in the car and headed off in the direction of Kirkwall. The route was a narrow road, flanked by grey stone houses in rough grassland. The lack of trees was compensated by views of other islands at practically every turn. There was something untouched about Orkney that made me feel comfortable and safe straightaway.
Whereas Stromness had felt old worldly, like an eighteenth century fishing port, Kirkwall had more of a modern feel in comparison. We parked the car in the town centre and looked for signs to the Tourist Office. Our plan was to get information on the islands, and properties that might be for sale. From Kirkwall we could sail to all the Northern Orkney islands, and we decided to try each one in turn – in alphabetical order (it was Kate’s idea). Studying the map in the Tourist Centre in Albert Street, I saw three islands with names beginning with an ‘S’, one with an ‘N’, one with ‘R’ and another with ‘W’. Then Kate pointed to a small island right in the centre of a group.