Mutant 59

by Kit Pedler

  ‘Police matters and traffic control are in the hands of the Assistant Commissioner. Underground transport, Mr Holland. Troop movements are under the command of General Fenwick, here, assisted by myself, and the decontamination centres are controlled by Dr Myland, Chief Medical Officer to the Greater London Council.

  ‘You will have already seen the control suites, these run and intercommunicate according to the procedure laid down in the “regional seats of government” paper which I take it you’ve all read.’ He looked up for assent; heads nodded. ‘Now with your permission, sir’ – he half turned towards the General, who waved a pudgy hand briefly – ‘we’ll consider the region involved.’ He pressed the buzzer on the desk and behind him the back projection screen filled with a green outlined map of central London.

  ‘Our reports indicate that most of the outbreak – whatever its nature – is confined to quite a limited area.’ He picked up a white pointer. ‘It seems to be bounded by the Euston Road to the north, as far west as the junction with Portland Place and east as far as Woburn Place. These limits, of course, are only approximate. Again, southwards down Southampton Row around the Aldwych to the river which forms the south perimeter. An area in all of some one and a half square miles.

  ‘There have in fact been other outbreaks outside the area but these are few and far between and we believe that these can be dealt with without serious risk.

  ‘According to the recent reports we’ve had, the process is spreading rapidly inside the area and it is now of the greatest urgency to contain it. To some extent we are helped by the weather, since the cold appears to slow down the rate of – er – reaction time’ – he paused and looked over at the yellow parchment face of Sir Frank Dale for approval of the words – ‘as it reaches the surface.

  ‘Our whole aim’ – he tapped the desk for emphasis – ‘must be completely to isolate the area – on the surface, in the air and under ground. I don’t need to remind you that if this plastic destroying agent gets out into the world at large – it could well bring things to a halt altogether – we must treat the area as a deadly plague zone.

  ‘Now from the point of view of troop movement. Since the state of emergency was signed at midday by Her Majesty, we have begun to deploy men around the perimeter.

  ‘The 1st Battalion Scots Guards are in the process of sealing off the north-western sector – here – and linking with three companies of the armoured division of the Horse Guards to the north-east – here.’ He tapped the screen for emphasis.

  ‘Perimeter control of the south sector is under the overall command of Colonel Sethbridge who is bringing mobile units of the Parachute regiment into the area at this moment.

  ‘At approximately 23.00 tonight, sealing off the zone should be complete and we shall be in a position to begin evacuation. As to support facilities, these are in the hands of the Service Corps, and Royal Corps of Signals.’ He paused for a moment surveying the audience for evidence of complete attention.

  ‘As you know, electrical and gas power has failed in some sectors so emergency generators are being moved to the perimeter and cables run in to provide some emergency power supply – mainly for heat. Warm air turbine generators are also being brought in as quickly as possible to provide heat. There are many old people resident in the zone who are entirely without any heating. Now that’s basically the situation and now, if I may, I’d like to hand you over to Sir Frank Dale, head of the Medical Research Council. He will explain the background to the affair – Sir Frank.’

  Dale got awkwardly to his feet and moved forward to the screen as the Brigadier sat down. He turned and surveyed the audience in silence for a moment, his expression suggesting some distaste at having to explain such elegant scientific matters to a lay audience. He spoke in a meticulous monotone without preamble.

  ‘So far we have got very little specific information about this agent and its effect. From the practical standpoint we know that through an intermediate substance of semi-proteinaceous nature in sewage it has evolved the increasingly widespread ability to attack a variety of plastic materials.’ The audience settled back anxiously trying to concentrate. ‘Normally, bacteria grow relatively slowly, but in this case the lag and decline phases of growth have been – ah – replaced by an accelerated log phase …’

  A voice came irritably from the audience: ‘Sir Frank I am sorry but I haven’t understood a word of that, could you please defer to our ignorance.’ A muted murmur grew to support the objector. Dale replied:

  ‘Mm? Oh I see – yes – well what it amounts to is that there has been a change in the rate of growth coupled with a truly extraordinary increase in rate of reproduction. Moreover, as each new generation strain appears it seems able to attack a wider variety of plastic materials. As it feeds upon the plastic it produces large volumes of gas – an inflammable and explosive mixture as it so happens, mainly sulphuretted hydrogen and methane – this has been the root cause of the disastrous series of explosions we have experienced.

  ‘I have advised the Home Secretary that my council have already taken over two disused wards in St Thomas’s Hospital – across the river from the south part of the affected zone – and these are being converted into research laboratories. We are already working on a twenty-four hour basis to establish a means of destroying this quite fascinating organism.

  ‘Immunology – that is to say serum use or inoculation – is obviously of no value since humans and animals are not – as yet – infected or affected whichever way you like to look at it.

  ‘We shall probably have to rely on widespread use of antibiotic sprays, but up till now we have been unable to find an antibiotic to which the organism is sensitive. In the meantime, we think that the best way of checking the under ground spread is to fill the tube tunnels and sewers with an inert gas. So far we have found that reproduction can be diminished in rate by an atmosphere of nitrogen and carbon dioxide and I understand’ – he looked over at the Brigadier – ‘that supplies of these gases are being assembled at all the main tube and sewer outlets. I must tell you that we have had to proceed on an entirely empirical base of experiment – since we have no precedents to go by. I hope to have more positive news for you in a day or so.’ He turned to the Brigadier. ‘I think that’s all, thank you.’

  The Brigadier got to his feet: ‘Thank you, Sir Frank, and now commissioner perhaps you could give us a brief rundown on the arrangements you have made.’

  The Assistant Commissioner, a slow moving, ponderous man walked slowly up to the desk carrying a small sheaf of papers. He spoke in an only slightly disguised cockney accent; an accent which his detractors said had grown broader as his rank grew higher. They said he used it to remind people of his beginnings as a constable, on the beat in Hackney …

  ‘Our main responsibility is to evacuate all people from the area as soon as possible. The procedure we shall use is, I think, fully described in the War Emergency Plans which should have been circulated.’ He looked up as people nodded looking among their papers to check. ‘You’ll see from your photostats, there are three main decontamination centres, these are being set up at Charing Cross, Euston and St Pancras railway stations.

  ‘Dr Fanning will tell you about these in more detail in a moment I shall confine myself to the actual plans for moving people. Briefly we have residents and non-residents. As the barriers go up around the area, a lot of commuters, visitors to London, tourists and so on won’t be able to leave and so we have decided to get them out first.

  ‘The Emergency Powers Act gives us full authority to requisition property and so we are telling all hotels in the area that we require them to set up as many beds as possible to accommodate people who don’t live there – at least until we can get them out.

  ‘The most urgent task is to move many of the patients in the two main hospitals – University College and Charing Cross. Ambulances are in the area now and we hope to have as many of the – er – walking-wounded out by midnight tonight.

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��A special decontamination centre is being set up here’ – he pointed to the projected map – ‘at Regent’s Park Square, so that the patients can be treated separately. This gives us according to the Emergency Bed Service about two hundred and thirty empty hospital beds. If the emergency continues for any length of time, we expect to have to deal with a number of cases of sickness – hypothermia in the elderly and so on.

  ‘Once the sick and the non-residents have been moved, we shall start on the residents. Everyone, of course, will have to go through the full decontamination procedure before they’re allowed out and our loudhailer vans are touring the streets now, telling people what to do and distributing leaflets of instructions. This won’t be complete for about sixteen or eighteen hours and there is bound to be considerable confusion at first, I’m afraid.

  ‘The most important single thing we can do at the moment is to make sure that people stay where they are. First of all to go to one of the emergency posts – get shelter and stay put. Sir Frank told me earlier that the more people move around the more likely they are to spread this thing whatever it is, so my people have been told to clear the streets. Obviously some folk will have to be about – doctors and so on – and we are arranging to provide them with some form of identification.

  ‘The whole situation, I’m afraid, will be an extremely attractive proposition to the criminal fraternity and we are bound to have an increase in various sorts of crime.

  ‘As to crowd control we don’t anticipate much trouble but to be forearmed so to speak, we have arranged with Brigadier Powell for an adequate supply of riot control apparatus. This has already been issued to the “Teeth” arms on the periphery and we ourselves are bringing in protective shields, rubber bullet projectors and MACE canisters. These will be stockpiled at the emergency posts.

  ‘Now, Dr Fanning, I believe you have some data on decontamination?’

  As the commissioner stepped down, there was an excited murmur of conversation as the various specialists began to compare notes and papers.

  Fanning, a tall athletic man in his thirties jumped easily up onto the dais and cleared his throat to gain attention, waiting impatiently for the noise to die down. He talked fluently in an easy extrovert style:

  ‘Well, decontamination is really terribly simple. All you need to do basically is to sterilize everybody.

  ‘Our problem in decontamination is really similar to barrier nursing of a dangerously infective case in a hospital. Basically each unit is like a valve. As people go through it one way they have to be parted from their clothing; they have to shower and have to be given new clothes. Unlike a valve, though, this is a two-part process. People coming out have to strip completely, shower down and wait while their clothes are sterilized in an autoclave – that’s a high pressure steam oven. Now in this case, we shan’t be able to do this in time, so people are being asked to come in old clothes, which will be labelled and sterilized and after showering they will be given new – that is – new, old clothing on the safe exit side. We are asking people outside the area to bring old clothes they don’t want, and – er – Oxfam have said they will help in this respect.

  ‘We chose railway stations for the decontamination centres because this gives us a highly controllable form of transport to take people away from the area. Also, trains are easier to keep separate from unaffected parts of the city. Now perhaps if I can give you a little more detail about…’

  The Brigadier glanced impatiently at his watch and then said firmly: ‘Well thank you – er – very much, Dr Fanning. I am sure that’s helpful, now time is getting on so now’ – he looked briefly at a list of names – ‘Mr Holland, have you anything to add from the transport angle?’

  Holland sat nervously picking his thumb and trying not to think about the rising acid in his stomach.

  ‘Er, nothing at the moment, except to say that the effect of this sealing off will obviously have a very serious effect on traffic elsewhere. In fact our computers are already showing jams as far out as thirty miles.’ He paused.

  ‘Effectively we have taken the centre out of a radial flow system, and although diversions are being set up, our estimate is that they will only carry fourteen per cent of the normal load. There’s nothing else we can do at the moment. All tubes are stopped in the area of course, and all we can do is to run to-and-fro shuttle services to the periphery of London.

  ‘If you look at this underground map’ – he pressed the buzzer and the tube map flashed up on the screen – ‘you can see that the area cuts through every major line except the Bank branch of the Northern. Since the source of the infection seems to be centred in disused sections of the track, we have thought it better to close off the whole system except at the periphery.

  ‘The military I understand, are sending men down to work in towards the centre of the area using flamethrowers to sterilize as they go. This may not of course be possible in some areas, since accumulations of gas may provide too great a risk. I think that’s all for the moment.’ He stepped down.

  The Brigadier looked at a paper and said, ‘Now Mr Hantrey from the GLC Sanitation will tell us about the position regarding sewage.’

  A small dapper man got neatly to his feet behind Holland and started talking quickly as he walked up to the dais: ‘A few essential points. The affected area lies over the west-east middle level sewer feeding north-eastwards into the Abbey Mills pumping station at Stratford. Now you’ve already been told that all sewage from the area will stop. That’s because everybody inside has been told not to use their drains or lavatories. But we still have to pump sewage from parts west of the area up to the northern outfall at Beckton.’

  He pressed the buzzer and a map showing the main drainage system of Central London replaced the picture of the decontamination centre. It showed a fantastic interwoven complex of lines almost as dense as a street map. He wielded a pointer and went on.

  ‘The only north-south sewer under the area is the Savoy Street branch. This is quite small and can easily be closed off at the Euston Road end. The problem really is the diversion of material from the west. We thought first of using the Fleet storm relief system and the northern high level but this is impracticable for reasons due to the power of the pumps at Lots Road.

  ‘Another possibility was the Piccadilly branch and the Ranelagh storm relief system, but once again we are in trouble with branches from the affected area which we shall be unable to close off.’

  He paused for a moment almost savouring the effect of what he was going to say.

  ‘So we have concluded that since we can’t be sure that people in the area won’t put some contaminating material down the drain that we shall have to close the main middle level system completely. This means I’m afraid that material from the north and west will have to be diverted into the storm relief system and – voided direct into the Thames.’

  Above the immediate burst of conversation which followed, Sir Frank Dale’s voice could be heard protesting: ‘But good God man, you can’t do that, the health hazard will be enormous, don’t you realize? There are dozens of communicable diseases – we’d have a dozen epidemics …’

  Hantrey replied patiently. ‘Sir Frank, we have no alternative, there is just nowhere else we can put the material …’

  ‘Aren’t there storage ponds or something?’

  ‘Yes, but these couldn’t possibly handle more than about – ten per cent of the volume. We simply have to pump it into the river – there’s no alternative.’

  Sir Frank spoke almost petulantly. ‘I warn you, we shall have serious outbreaks of …’ The Brigadier hastily got to his feet, he spoke placatingly.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Hantrey, that’s most helpful. Sir Frank, I think it would be best if we continued this particular discussion after we break. I think we need more data and I understand’ – he turned to an aide who nodded – ‘that a Port of London Officer will be here shortly to give us some data about tidal flow and so on – so may we do that?’ Dale nodded impati
ently. ‘Now if I may tell you a little more about our underground system here …’

  As he spoke in the brightly lit warmth of the underground complex, far above on the surface a bitterly cold north wind was sweeping light flurries of snow down Portland Place outside Broadcasting House. A police van, parked in the centre of Langham Place, was harshly barking instructions through a loudspeaker on its roof to bewildered pedestrians gathered round.

  ‘All residents are advised to go back to their homes and stay indoors. Non-residents must go as quickly as possible to one of the centres marked on the map where they will be passed through to the outside as quickly as possible. Maps showing the location of these centres are available here and from any uniformed constable. There are bound to be some delays and to avoid hardship, a list of requisitioned hotels is also available. These will supply temporary shelter and food at no charge …’

  An elderly woman huddled in an ill-fitting tweed coat was grumbling testily looking at the rough-printed map handed to her by a policeman.

  ‘I ask you, ’ow can I walk all that way, I got bunions, I wouldn’t get a hundred yards.’ The policeman, a large man with a friendly farmer’s face looked down at her grinning. ‘Never mind, dear, I’ll give you a piggy-back.’ For a moment she glared back at him and then crackled wheezily: ‘Wouldn’t mind either.’

  Two elegantly dressed businessmen were listening to the voice from the speaker, one turned to the other: ‘Calls for a brandy or two, don’t you think?’ The other grinned: ‘The Saville?’ ‘Right.’ They both turned abruptly and walked away.

  Police were moving through the crowd handing out the maps and the emergency instructions, then, over the dry sound of the wind from the north end of the road, there was a growing rumble.

  Round the crescent of Park Square a long black line of army lorries swept into Portland Place outlined harshly against the snow. Motor cycle outriders tore up and down alongside the column, like attendant insects.