by Steve Howrie
“Yes it does; but we’re not going to have it,” he replied.
“What will they do it we refuse?” asked Gareth.
“To be honest, I don’t know – and I don’t think they know either. It will probably depend on how we object – whether we make a stand and say this shouldn’t be allowed, or we simply run off and hide.” Whilst we were thinking about that, our food arrived. As we were eating, a thought occurred to me.
“Frank – when we met in London, you told me that you had…” I was going to say ‘ten times the normal level of sodium in your body’, but suddenly realized that only Frank would know he told me this. This was a great opportunity to test, once and for all, whether or not the man sitting next to me was really Frank Peters. I paused.
“I told you what Kevin?”
“Sorry, I’ve just gone blank.”
“Kevin, it’s very important that we’re open and honest with each other. If you want to test me, go ahead – I’ll play your games. But whatever I say, it won’t convince you. When I used to go around talking to people in London, and told them about an alien virus, they inevitably thought I was crazy; to tell them I was immune because I was born on another planet would have had them calling the funny farm.”
“So you’re saying that you’re immune because you’re an…” I looked round the bar to see if anyone was listening. There were only three other people in the pub, and they were engrossed in a football match. “…because you’re an alien?” I whispered.
“Yes – and it’s got nothing to do with having ten times the average level of sodium in my body, or whatever I used to say.” He had said it – the exact phrase that Frank had used in London. And yet, he was absolutely right – it didn’t prove anything. If he’d spoken those words to me in the Bells, he could have said the same thing to thousands of other people in London, including Steve Saunders. And then Steve Saunders could have killed Frank.
“But salt does neutralize the virus?” asked Kate.
“Yes, of course… it prevents it being active; but the virus can still be inside you. Salt keeps acts as a barrier to the virus so it can be dealt with – but it doesn’t destroy it. If it was that easy, I wouldn’t have spent the last ten thousand years on this planet – none of us would.” Just as I thought I’d understood something, Frank had the ability to throw a spanner in ointment (if you’ll excuse the mixed metaphor) and make me question this ‘new reality’. How could I, how could any of us, believe that we’d lived on Earth for ten thousand years?
As we were contemplating Frank’s words, Harry and Jo appeared. They said they had to head off down South to visit Jo’s mother, who had become very ill. Tony seemed unhappy about this, but Frank said it was fine: they had to do what they thought was right. It was the last time that the seven of us would be together.
*
In London the next day, the affects of the virus exploded onto the streets. With the arrival of the new ‘bird flu’, the medical services provision reached bursting point and then collapsed. Doctors and nurses fell ill alongside their patients, so there was no–one to tend the sick. There was little they could have done in any case. Last minute attempts were made to vaccinate anyone and everyone, but these only exacerbated the situation; the inoculations contained the virus itself. With the mass of the population already infected, it took little to push them over the edge.
It started with normal flu symptoms – a sore throat and a cough, followed by fever and general aches and pains – particularly in the chest – and complete lethargy. Those who attempted to carry on working merely spread the virus. Just like the 1918 pandemic, it wasn’t only the very young and elderly who were hit: those in their twenties and thirties were equally affected; and once the virus took hold of them, death followed quickly.
From London, the virus soon spread outwards to other UK cities – and then other countries. Parliament struggled on in London for a little while with a drastically reduced number of MPs, then had to move out of the capital to Edinburgh. Those MPs who had not yet been hit by the virus moved up North to join their counterparts at the Scottish Parliament at Holyrood. And still it went on. The army was called in to maintain basic services in the cities. Hundreds of thousands moved away from the towns into the countryside, thinking it safer there. But all they succeeding in doing was to spread the virus to the country areas.
In a desperate attempt to stem the tide, local councils ordered anyone infected with the virus to stay at home. It was a death sentence for their whole family – reminiscent of the Great Plague of the sixteen hundreds when red crosses were put on the doors of infected households in London. The scientists, what was left of them, couldn’t understand how the virus could spread so quickly and so far. They had no idea that the mass majority of humankind had been infected with this virus for dozens of centuries, and the recent avian flu merely acted as a trigger for the alien organism to overrun their hosts. They had no answer to the epidemic – nothing they did would slow down its pace in any way. The pattern was soon repeated in many other places around the globe. Only the cooler places in the far north and far south managed some sort of containment. Orkney was safe – for the time being.
***
Twenty-Six
After leaving Eday, Sandi headed back in the direction of the place she knew so well: London. She hoped her job was still open for her, and it flashed through her mind that her experiences with the group would make a great story, and perhaps convince Trevor to reinstate her at work.
At first, she had no idea of the severity of the flu epidemic that had recently hit London, and she booked a ferry and long–distance coach back to the capital at the Tourist Office in Kirkwall, staying overnight at a small guest house in the town that they’d recommended. The next day, she took an early morning bus to Burwick, from where she would board the passenger ferry to John O’Groats. The bus took her south through mainland Orkney and across several islands via the Churchill barriers, huge causeways built of huge concrete blocks during the second World War to keep out the German U–Boats.
The bus stopped briefly at the Italian Chapel, a converted Nissan Hut built by Italian prisoners of war – no doubt the same prisoners who had worked on the Churchill barriers. Several tourists got out and took photographs. Sandi smiled at them and thought how nice it would be to have an ordinary life again, one where no–one was talking crazy stuff about viruses or aliens from other galaxies.
The bus reached Burwick in just over half an hour, and the passengers transferred to the small ferry. A couple in matching blue anoraks struck up a conversation with her – talking about the wildlife in Orkney. They had been on a walking holiday and travelled to most of the islands – including Eday. Sandi didn’t let on she’d been there – not wanting to explain what she’d been doing on the island.
After a fairly rocky forty–five minute journey under grey skies and a cold wind, the boat docked at John O’Groats. Now Sandi just wanted to get home, and quickly boarded the coach for Inverness, settling down in her seat with a good book. London couldn’t come soon enough, she thought.
The journey to Inverness is a long and winding road, following the east coast for the main part, and taking twists and turns through several hair–pin bends which wind their way downwards through rugged, but beautiful, terrain. Sandi was glad to reach Inverness, where she had to change to the London Coach. Having a break of one hour before the next bus departed, she wandered into the main street to find some food.
*
As Harry and Jo headed south from Thurso, Jo wondered if they were doing the right thing. She always worried in this way. Things would start out clear and straightforward, and then doubts would fill her mind – then she couldn’t tell right from wrong. It had seemed the right course of action – in fact, the only course of action – to go south to see her mother. But at the same time, it didn’t feel right leaving the others in Kirkwall. Her concern was interrupted by Harry.
“Oh shit!” he exclaimed.
&nbs
p; “What is it?” asked Jo.
“I’ve forgot my bloody mobile!”
“Don’t worry – I’ve got mine. And we’re not going to be away long, we told them that.” Jo was very good at telling other people not to worry.
“Have you got Tony’s number on your phone?”
“No – I thought you had all their numbers?”
“Well I have… on my phone. Did Tony tell you where they’re going – after leaving Eday?”
“No… I thought he told you.”
“Great!”
“Don’t worry, we can call Tony when we get back to Eday – when you find your mobile.”
“Yes… hopefully.”
Whilst they drove, Harry turned on the radio to catch up on the news.
“…The main points of the news again: the Home Office is undertaking emergency vaccinations in London after a massive outbreak of avian flu. The virus is spreading rapidly through the City, and people are advised to avoid all journeys in and out of the Capital unless absolutely necessary…”
Harry and Jo looked at each other.
“Now what do we do?” she asked.
“We can’t go back – not now. We have to make sure your mum’s okay. We’ve plenty of salt in the back – the others seemed to think that helps against the virus.” Jo wasn’t convinced; but at the same time, she couldn’t let her mother down either. If they could reach London, they would take her back to Orkney with them. She’d be safe there. They drove the next couple of hours listening to the radio, which gave regular updates of the situation in London. Things were getting worse by the hour.
At Inverness, Harry said they needed fuel so drove into town for a top up. Whilst they were there, it seemed a good idea to stop for a bite to eat. Harry said he knew of a café near the river, so they parked near the bus station and walked through the town. As they were looking for a table, Jo’s eyes lit up.
“Sandi!”
“Where?” asked Harry. Jo pointed over to a corner, and then he nodded. They only knew what happened to Sandi from Frank – and all he said was that she’d decided the group wasn’t for her, and she was returning to London. They didn’t know of any reason why they shouldn’t talk to her.
“Hello Sandi,” said Jo. Sandi turned with a start.
“Oh! Hi Jo – Harry,” she looked very nervous.
“Is everything all right?” enquired Harry.
“Yes – fine,” she said, wondering what she should do now. Did they know what had happened on Eday, she wondered.
“Can we join you,” asked Jo.
“Yes, of course.” She made room for them to sit down, moving her bags to one side.
“Have you eaten yet?” asked Jo.
“No – I’ve just ordered.”
“I’ll get something for us,” said Harry, leaving Jo and Sandi to talk.
“We were sorry you left the others,” confided Jo. “We thought you were getting on so well with them.”
“Well, you know – these things happen. I was missing London, and I thought if I went now I could get my job back.”
“With the magazine?” asked Jo.
“Yes.” Harry came back from ordering food.
“Have you heard about the virus – in London?” he said. Sandi was alarmed.
“No – what’s happened?” Harry turned to look at Jo for support. He thought it best if she told Sandi.
“We heard on the radio this morning – there’s been a massive outbreak of bird flu in London – people are dropping like flies.” This was not the news Sandi wanted to hear.
“What parts of London?” Sandi asked. She lived in Finchley, North London, and worked in Fulham.
“They said it started in the City,” Harry explained, “but it’s spreading rapidly. People are being advised not to go in or out of London – they don’t want it to spread.” Sandi nodded in understanding. So Kevin and the others had been right.
“What are you doing down here?” she asked. Jo explained about her mother, and how they intended to take her back to Orkney with them – if they could get into London safely. Harry asked Sandi how she was travelling. When she said by bus, they insisted she travel with them. Whilst at one time she didn’t trust them, the news of the outbreak in London had changed everything. It probably seemed a bit crazy to go to London now; but her car and all her things were back there. Even if she decided to return to Orkney, she needed to go home and sort things out first – collect her bank book, pay her bills. But interest in retaining her job had suddenly waned.
They ate whilst talking about Eday and Kevin and the others. Harry and Jo obviously thought the world of them, and Sandi couldn’t help thinking she’d made a big mistake by leaving; but the group hadn’t made things easy for her. She questioned Harry on the situation in London. He told her all he knew. After eating, they returned to the car and Sandi sat in the back whilst Harry drove. The road was far better going south from Inverness, and they reached Glasgow in three and an half hours. After stopping for a quick break, they headed down the M74 towards Carlisle. Sandi was grateful for the lift – and the company. She viewed Jo and Harry differently now.
It was a long drive from Carlisle to London, and it was the middle of the night by the time they arrived. They was an eeriness about Finchley, where Harry and Jo dropped Sandi. She invited them in for a drink, but they needed to push on to reach Jo’s mother. Sandi and Jo swapped mobile numbers and promised to keep in contact, whilst Harry offered Sandi a lift back to Orkney if and when she was ready to return. They had no idea how bad things had become in the capital.
***
Twenty-Seven
Eight weeks later.
We had been on Papa Westray for two months now. The authorities lost completely interest in enforcing the new salt laws – dealing with the effects of the virus and maintaining law and order were their priorities.
Liz and Hamish at Beltane house had been a great help to us, making us very comfortable and welcome. There was enough food grown on the island for us to survive, and Hamish went fishing every other day – assisted by Gareth, who took to his new vocation like a fish to water, so to speak. Liz made delicious bread and bere bannocks, and though the fare was simpler than we were used to, it was certainly more wholesome – and probably far healthier for us.
Kate acted as a general factotum. Liz was glad of her help (and her company) in the kitchen and learned how to cook dozens of non–animal recipes from Kate. I spent some of my time updating the website which Frida had recently set up for us with Tony and Frank. We already had a great deal of interest in the site and signed up thousands of people to our newsletter. There was lots of information about the virus on the site (supplied by Tony and Frank); an interactive forum where visitors could post messages about the virus in their area of the World; and videos of Frank talking about the virus. Visitors to the site could join our mailing list. We had over ten thousand already, and the list was growing every day. Kate and I put the newsletter together – my journalistic skills making a contribution at last. I was interested in what sort of people would be responding to our mailing list.
“Mostly those of our own kind at first,” replied Tony as we stopped for a tea break one afternoon. I still hadn’t adjusted to the idea that I didn’t originate from planet Earth. Tony was understanding of my situation. “All life originates from the same source if you go back far enough. It’s just that you don’t belong to this planet – any more than you belong to South–East Asia. You can visit countries like China and Indonesia, but you will always be a foreigner – however long you live in the area. You could even marry a nice local girl and have children. But still, it wouldn’t be your country – the one that’s marked on your DNA. You would always feel like an outsider to some degree or other – you’d never fit in one hundred percent. And it’s the same with Universes.”
It made sense. I’d often felt that I didn’t belong in society – whether it be in my family, at work, or in social situations. (Having said
that, I still had no recall of who my family was!). At one time in my life, I had the feeling that I’d been born into the wrong age, or the wrong country, or to the wrong parents. I just didn’t fit in. Until now. Since meeting Frank and the others, I’d never felt so much at home as I did then.
“What about Sandi,” I asked. “Is she one of us?”
“It’s possible,” replied Tony. “Over the years there have been many of our own kind that have become lost souls in mankind’s society.”
“Because of the virus?” I asked. Tony nodded. “What happens to them?”
“They live out an ordinary life on Earth. Then, at the point of death, they’re suddenly aware of their true being, their true purpose. For a short time, they can see this Universe as it is in reality, without the distortion caused by the virus. After reviewing their previous life, they can choose another body to enter, and they’re reborn into another life. Or they go home – back to their own planet.”
“You mean they take over the body of a person that’s just died – like Frank did?”
“That can happen – but it’s rare. Usually, the soul needs a complete fresh start and is reborn in the same way as everyone else on Earth.”
“As a baby?” I asked.
“Yes, that’s right.” Just then Kate entered.
“What are you two talking about? Don’t you have work to do?”
“We’re discussing life, the universe and everything. And yes – we’re doing it.” I replied cockily.
I’d grown to like Kate more and more since we moved to Papay. She had matured and was a wonderful young woman, and a great partner. She was much more practical than me, and better with people, in my opinion. But hey, I was a journalist. Which made me think of making more use of my profession. There were hundreds of online newspapers and magazine on the Net. What about writing articles about the virus for publication in those? We could even include a link to our website. I put the idea to Frank at dinner that evening.
“Sounds great Kevin – go for it,” he said, cutting into his meal. “Don’t you think so Tony?”
“Yes, why not?” he replied. “The more people that know about the virus the better.” Gareth had been looking very serious throughout dinner, so I involved him in our chat.”