by Terry Morgan
CHAPTER 6
In a cheap hotel room off Gloucester Road in London, Kevin Parker had been unable to sleep. He had left the meeting with Mr El Badry with his mind in turmoil. But, mixed with the sense of finally having found someone with similar views to his own, a ready-made solution and, apparently, the resources to do something about it, Kevin felt very uneasy.
Getting off the tube at Gloucester Road station after his meeting with El Badry, Kevin had been offered something by a black youth stood outside Tesco Express and was tempted. But Kevin had felt high enough already.
Now, six in the morning with a hint of the dawn of a grey, damp London morning seeping through the faded curtains, Kevin felt he was at last starting to grasp what he had been told and what was being offered. Sitting on the edge of the creaking bed in his boxer shorts, he could see the No Smoking sign on the door opposite but ignored it and lit a cigarette.
He had found the red brick apartment block on Chelsea Embankment to be just as he had imagined - plush. He had taken the lift to the second floor and rang the bell. Then he had rang it again and, just as he did so, a big woman in a long black Arab dress with a cream-coloured head scarf opened it.
"I have come to see Mr El Badry," Kevin announced. "For a meeting of the Malthus Society."
"Yes," the woman said, "Come this way."
Kevin followed her across the shiny oak floor. The walls were clean and white with neat row of Arabic prints in ornate wooden frames. They came to a second shiny oak door and the woman pushed it open with a hand that bore large gold rings with blue stones. She beckoned Kevin to enter and then closed the door behind him. Kevin looked around.
It was clearly an office of sorts with a large wooden desk, a few papers scattered, a green desk light and a closed lap top computer. But the sofa and separate chairs, coffee table and Persian carpet (or whatever make it was) that dominated the centre of the floor gave it more of a living room feel. Through the vast plate glass window behind the desk, Kevin could see the river Thames and what he assumed was Battersea Park.
Kevin, clutching the brown folder that contained the notes for his talk, stood and waited, wondering whether other members of the Malthus Society or other foreign groups might also have received invitations and would turn up. For a moment he felt a little let down. Surely, as chairman of the Society, he should, at the very least. have been given more advanced information of the meeting. But, he consoled himself in knowing that all of the Malthus groups on his database operated in a slightly cloak and dagger manner.
Kevin was still wondering if he should go and sit in one of the white leather chairs or, perhaps, the white leather sofa, when he heard the door open behind him and the man he assumed was Mr El Badry walked towards him.
He was a not a big man, certainly not as tall as Kevin, but neatly dressed in a dark navy blue suit, white shirt and blue tie. The greying hair looked gelled and neatly parted but the heavy moustache seemed to have retained its original black colour. As he approached holding out his hand, the other hand removed a pair of rimless spectacles.
Kevin, in his open necked green shirt and red Liverpool sweater, held out his hand.
"Mr Parker, Kevin Parker. I am Mohamed El Badry. Welcome."
Kevin took the hand and got a distinct whiff of aftershave or some other male cosmetic. Kevin had never bothered with such expensive luxuries but already felt he was in the company and in the home of a rich man. He decided to wait to be told what was expected of him.
"Please, be seated," El Badry said and Kevin sat on the edge of the white leather sofa. El Bady relaxed in one of the white chairs and crossed his legs to expose red socks and shiny, patent leather shoes.
"I have been following your work, Kevin - may I call you Kevin?"
"Yes, please do," said Kevin still clutching his folder.
"Your enthusiasm for the group you call the Malthus Society has become known to me. Tell me, Kevin, how many members do you now have on your lists?"
"In the UK we have around fifty," said Kevin, "but I have an international network of groups with similar views that probably adds up to well over a thousand people. "
"That is, indeed, impressive, Kevin. And you deliberately keep everything on a low profile, I believe."
"Yes," said Kevin, "I've already had some bad personal experiences of having my own views published. In fact, I now advise most of my network to deliberately avoid publicity as it seems to anger politicians and others," he paused, "The fertility clinic lot take a very dim view."
Kevin tried the little joke as he was still unsure where all this was leading and Tunje's warning about the CIA or MI6 was already in his mind.
Fortunately, El Badry seemed to like the joke as a smile appeared beneath the moustache. "Yes, there is an unfortunate shortage of people who share our view that we need more urgent and radical solutions, Kevin," he said. Then he continued:
"Tell me, Kevin, do you have a personal view on a solution to the problems of overpopulation?"
Kevin thought about it for a moment. This was dangerous ground. He scratched his chin with the edge of his folder and thought about it. To announce his opinion to someone he had only just met was risky. On the other hand, El Badry didn't quite have the feel or look of someone from a government or an intelligence body. He looked around the room wondering whether he was being secretly filmed or recorded but Kevin was not an expert on such technology. He had no idea. He decided on a cautious approach.
"I have my views, Mr El Badry, but I am not willing to disclose these until I know who I am talking to. Where do you stand on this subject? I came here expecting to give a talk on the views of Thomas Malthus with some additional views on potential solutions thrown in, but only if appropriate to the meeting."
Kevin was pleased with himself.
El Badry smiled again and this time eased himself up from his leather chair. He went over towards his desk and put his glasses back on. Then he sat in the white leather chair behind it and swivelled around to look out towards Battersea Park.
"As I said, Kevin, I have been following your work. You are right in what you say. We cannot wait for talking shops like the United Nations to act, even if one felt they might ever arrive at a consensus. What would you say if you knew that many more thousands of people in influential positions shared your views about overpopulation and wanted a solution now? "
Kevin, sitting in his much lower sofa, looked up towards the balding back of El Badry's head. "I'd say I already know that, Mr El Badry."
"And what would you say if there is a solution being developed that could bypass the political debate that we all know is going nowhere and makes things actually happen?"
"I'd say that there is no political debate taking place, Mr El Badry. There hasn't been anything serious since Thomas Malthus raised the matter way back in 1798. I and members of my groups have been wanting the debate for a very long time. But then we want a solution not just more talk."
El Badry swivelled back to face Kevin.
"We have a solution, Kevin."
"Who is we, Mr El Badry?"
"We, meaning my company, my associates, my researchers, my agents and my distributors. We are ready to move."
Kevin's brain was working overtime. It was like music to his ears but he had no wish to get carried away just yet. "I'm interested, Mr El Badry."
Kevin was trying to adopt a business-like tone to someone he now believed not only looked like but probably was some big shot businessman based somewhere or another, probably the Middle East.
"You have a friend, a Nigerian, who runs a similar group?" said El Badry.
"Yes," said Kevin, very surprised that Tunje was already known. But so as not to lose any initiative, he added, "He is someone who joined my British Malthus group."
"He speaks highly of you."
So he fucking should, thought Kevin. Tunje Fayinke had learned most of his facts and figures and got most of the accumulated evidence by listening to him.
"Yes,"
El Badry went on, "We have recently been working with Mr. Fayinke to test out a few ideas."
This was news to Kevin. Inside, he raised an eyebrow and continued to listen.
"Tunje has a lot to learn, though. He will have to learn to live with local politics and high local security because of problems with Islamic militants. We will help him overcome all of this nonsense but, as a result, we want to try to find a few other people like Tunje to test out our plans in other countries. This is where you come in."
Kevin said nothing but put his folder on the sofa beside him. Despite all his preparations, clearly he was not required to give a lecture.
El Badry swung his seat around again to face the river view.
"Let us not, what you say, beat about the bush, Kevin. Instead, let's get straight to the point. What, in your view, would be an effective way to forcibly reduce the world population?"
For Kevin, the slippery ground had returned but he decided to go for one of the most radical ideas just to check the reaction. It was one that had been mentioned before, even by Ehrlich. Then he deliberately smiled so as to suggest he was not entirely serious. If there was, indeed, a camera recording him, they might perhaps watch the playback and think he was talking with one tongue firmly planted in his cheek.
"Use public water supplies to disperse anti-fertility compounds."
"Any other ideas?"
El Badry was pushing him. What was he playing at?
"Introduce super-resistant bugs or other plant pathogens that caused essential crops to fail."
El Badry smiled. "Anything else?"
"Start a pandemic with a new virus or bacteria with no known cure."
Kevin smiled once again and looked up at El Badry who had turned back to face him. El Badry then leaned over to open a drawer in his desk.
"Whisky, Kevin? Gin and tonic? Vodka? Arak?"
"Whisky, please."
"Soda? Tonic? Water?"
"Neat, please."
El Badry produced two glasses, came over and placed them on the fancy white lace cloth that covered most of the coffee table. He then poured two big, neat whiskies, offered one to Kevin and returned to his leather chair with the other.
"Cheers," he said and lifted his glass. Kevin lifted his and sipped at the contents.
"We have just that," El Badry said. "We have the means to cause a pandemic. But what we also have is a treatment. If you work with us, Kevin, the treatment will be made available to you."
"Will it be free?" asked Kevin, "my university salary only goes so far."