by Dean, Warren
"The Church has to support the right of God-fearing people to stand up for their beliefs. The fact that those beliefs are suddenly unpopular is immaterial."
Winston was horrified. "Your Grace, people are getting hurt and I have no doubt that the situation is going to get worse. Have you seen the graffiti on the wall of St Margaret's? People perceive the protesters to be an extension of the Church and I am concerned that there will be a backlash."
"I am aware of that. Of course the Church is not seeking confrontation. But the issue at stake is highly emotive and I believe that, whether or not the Church attempts to intervene, conflict is inevitable. Especially if peaceful protests are suppressed. There is already a faction within the brotherhood advocating a more aggressive approach. If you give the protesters no choice they are going to adopt one."
Francis seemed very well informed about the internal workings of the brotherhood, Winston thought, but he elected not to say so. "What can be done then, Your Grace? I cannot sit back and let the situation deteriorate."
"The only solution is a hard one. Faerie Blood must be eradicated by whatever means is necessary."
"The previous government tried that," said Winston gloomily, "and look where it is now."
Francis stood up slowly and prepared to leave. "You must understand something, Prime Minister. People inoculated with Faerie Blood believe that they are going to live forever. They no longer have any use for the teachings of the Church. If they have immortality here on Earth, why do they need the immortality of the afterlife? Attendances at services are falling rapidly as more and more people are inoculated. I have never seen anything like it. Religion is in a fight for its very existence; not just here in Britain, but worldwide.
"The Church has fought for its existence before and will do so again if it has to. What concerns me is that, in the past, there have always been people willing to fight on its behalf. If Faerie Blood inoculations continue at their current rate, there will soon be no-one left to fight and the Church will cease to be relevant at all.
"Think about it, Prime Minister. A world in which there is no belief in God, and no respect for the moral principles most of us abide by. A world in which there is nothing to stop people from hurting each other, or killing each other, or from taking what they want, or worse. Yes, the law will remain, but what will happen when those who uphold the law are inoculated? How many of them will resist joining in, perhaps abusing the very positions they hold for their own gain? It is not a pleasant picture, Prime Minister, but it is one the Church is taking very seriously indeed."
Winston was utterly dismayed by the stark scenario that Francis painted. He couldn't think of anything meaningful to say as the bishop shuffled out and simply promised to take into consideration everything he had said.
Winston hadn't begun to sort through the turmoil of his thoughts when Adams re-entered the room.
Looking at the Prime Minister's expression, he hesitated. "Are you all right, sir, you look like you've seen a ghost?"
"Quite all right, thank you. What is it now?"
"There is something that requires your urgent attention, sir."
Winston grimaced. "It can't be anything good judging by the way the rest of the day has gone."
Adams didn't contradict him. "There has been a riot at Pentonville Prison. The chief warden has been taken hostage."
"Good Lord! But surely the prison authorities are dealing with it?"
"They are, sir, but the inmates have made an unusual demand which you should be aware of."
They hurried through the warren of corridors that burrowed their way through much of Number 10, eventually reaching the communications centre. A small crowd of advisers had already gathered and more were arriving from other parts of the building. Someone had called up a schematic diagram of the North London prison on the central wall-screen. Thankfully, the media hadn't got wind of events yet.
Glennard, the security adviser, was listening intently to his 'mote. He looked up and saw that Winston had arrived. "Patch the Prime Minister in, Evans," he instructed one of the com operators.
Winston's 'mote chimed and, when he answered it, he heard the stentorian voice of the deputy chief warden break in. "...reaction team has cordoned off the area and we are trying to reason with the rioters now."
Glennard interrupted him. "The Prime Minister is listening, Mr Harrison. Can you bring him up to speed?"
"Yes, of course. About an hour ago, the chief warden decided to make an unscheduled inspection of the workshops in G Wing. An inmate demanded the right to be inoculated with Faerie Blood. This issue has been raised by inmates before, and it has become highly sensitive within the prison. As you can imagine, inmates who are facing long stretches are desperate to alleviate their sentences by remaining the same age they are now. Once they have done their time, they won't have lost a large chunk of their lives."
Winston mentally added the issue of prison sentences to the long list of things to be re-evaluated.
Harrison continued. "When it first came up, we decided to refuse all requests for inoculations. As far as we are concerned, they do not fall into the category of necessary medical treatment and there is nothing in the prison regulations catering for them. When the chief re-iterated our decision today, the inmates became heated and a riot broke out. They overpowered the chief and the workshop instructors and are holding them hostage."
"Has anyone been injured?" asked Winston.
"We don't know, sir. We have managed to establish communication with one of the ringleaders, a character named Jackson. He is a nasty piece of work; imprisoned on four convictions of robbery and aggravated assault. He says that they will not release the hostages unless we allow Faerie Blood inoculations in the prison and guarantee that they will not be punished in any way for their actions."
"How are you going to deal with the situation?"
"There is no easy way out of this, Prime Minister. We cannot accede to their demands. We can wait it out in the hope that their resolve will weaken and they will give in. Or we can send in a tacteam to take them by force."
"Which is the less risky option?"
"It is difficult to say. Although Pentonville is a medium security prison, there are some hard cases in here. Some of our worst offenders are in the workshops backing Jackson up. If we do nothing, they may become desperate enough to kill hostages in order to get what they want. If we go in, they are almost certain to threaten the hostages in an attempt to get us to back off."
He paused. "You must excuse me, sir, I am told that Jackson is back on the line. I will do my best to persuade him to see reason." He terminated the connection.
Winston instructed the security adviser to keep him posted and began making his way back through the corridors.
He walked slowly, deep in thought. Since he had taken office, the Faerie Blood issue had dogged him relentlessly. It seemed that, no matter what he did, or tried to do, the parameters of the problem expanded every day. The prison debacle was a good example. It raised yet another difficult question. How should people with Faerie Blood be punished for crimes they commit?
For someone living an ordinary lifespan, a twenty or thirty year sentence was significant. But what about someone who would live for two or three hundred years? Or longer? Even if maximum sentences were doubled, would they have any impact? Theoretically, criminals could steal millions, salt them away, and then willingly do the time, knowing that they would still have an eternity to enjoy their ill-gotten gains.
Would it force the government to re-introduce capital punishment? Talk about a thorny issue! But surely the death sentence could only be for the most serious crimes. What about the rest? Centuries ago, criminals who weren't hanged were transported to Australia. If and when the star drive became operational, would he find himself transporting criminals to penal colonies off-planet?
Who would have thought that a seemingly benevolent gift to humanity would cause such chaos? He wondered briefly whether the Faerie Folk had
realised that this would happen, perhaps even intended it for some unknown reason. The frightening thing was that it had only been four months since their serum went on sale. In that short time, the government had fallen, many of the laws of the land had been rendered obsolete, and the country had no way of generating the resources it would need to survive the future.
Oh, and the Church was in a battle to dissuade the populace from forsaking age-old religious beliefs for the abundant charms of longevity; a battle which was on the verge of breaking out into open war; a battle which it did not look like winning. And if people were prepared to turn away from the Church, how long would it take for them to decide that they didn't need a government anymore?
Adams caught up with him. "Your wife is on her way, sir. The car should arrive in a few minutes. Apparently she insisted on bringing, ah, a few things with her."
"Thank you. What is the status at Pentonville?"
"The tacteam is going in. The inmates have threatened to kill the chief warden if their demands are not met."
"I see."
"What are we going to do, sir?" asked Adams.
Winston pondered the question. "Our task team must be expanded and it is going to have to work around the clock from now on. Please ask Sir Clive to make the necessary arrangements. We are going to have to develop a comprehensive strategy to deal with all aspects of the Faerie Blood problem. And we are going to have to consider giving Gordon the money needed to complete the space project," he said. "I'm beginning to think he is right; we are going to need it before all of this is over."
He left Adams standing in the corridor and went to the entrance hall to wait for Connie.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Katya's 'mote chimed. "Colonel, you had better come to the tech-centre," said Hans when she answered it. He never addressed her by rank, so she realised immediately that something was wrong. She would have known anyway; the tension in his voice was palpable. She left the charts she was working on and hurried through the corridors to the centre.
She arrived to find Armitage and Chang facing off against Hans and Harry Hasper. The other personnel in the room were fleeing like rats leaving a sinking ship.
The American general was apoplectic with rage. "This is unacceptable," he shouted at Hans. You are not authorised to make this kind of decision on your own. This is not your project. You think you can do what you like because you are some kind of hotshot. Well you can't. And this has been going on for three months. Three months! Have you seen what is happening planetside? Have you seen the chaos? The world needs this star drive like never before and you have wasted three months on this..., this conceited frolic of your own.
"And you," he pointed a withering finger at Harry, "You are just as bad. You are his willing accomplice. Your prime minister is going to hear about this."
Then he turned on Katya. "And you knew all about this too, didn't you?"
"What is going on here, general?" she said to interrupt his tirade, although she knew full well what had happened. It was inevitable that the generals would eventually find out about the decision to abandon the blueprint. The only surprise was that it had taken this long.
"Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes, Colonel. You know precisely what is going on. My government has poured a great deal of money into this project, as has yours; money which is desperately needed elsewhere. And now I find out that it is being wasted. You three have overstepped your authority and I will not allow it to continue. Let me tell you what is going to happen. I am taking command of this base, with immediate effect."
"Now look here, general..." said Harry.
Armitage silenced him with a glare and turned to the Chinese general beside him. "I am sorry Chang; I don't mean to tread on your toes. But I am sure you will agree that drastic action is necessary. This project is now off limits to the three of you. Be grateful that I am not going to confine you to your quarters. I intend to appoint a team leader from my delegation whose task it will be to get us back on track as soon as possible."
He turned towards the hatch. "Carson!" he barked. His adjutant appeared as if from nowhere. "Yes, sir?"
"Escort the Colonel and these two out," he waved in the direction of Hans and Harry. "Then secure this room and the base computer system. From now on, no-one is to have access to any aspect of the project without my express authorisation." He wheeled around and stalked out.
Chang stood silently for a few moments, his face inscrutable, and then left the room slowly.
"Now you see why we couldn't tell him," Hans said gloomily to Harry.
"This is a serious problem, Hans," replied the British astrophysicist. "If he goes through with this, how are we going to carry on?" He looked at Katya. "Can he do this? There are five delegations here. If the three of us act together, can't we override him?"
Katya shook her head. "If we try that, he will simply secure the base by force. Our personnel are almost all civilians. Only he saw fit to keep a significant number of soldiers on the base. And anyway, we can't risk precipitating an armed conflict up here. What if the base is damaged, or the ship? That would be disastrous. We will have to report to our governments and hope they can clean up the mess."
Carson cleared his throat. "I am sorry, Colonel and gentlemen, but I must carry out my orders."
Katya nodded. "Don't worry, Captain, we won't make things difficult for you." She turned to leave and spoke over her shoulder. "Hans, don't forget to log out of the system."
Carson frowned suspiciously. "I don't think you should touch anything, sir."
"You heard the general's orders, Captain," said Katya in her best military tone. "He wants the whole system secured. I don't want him accusing us of leaving it open deliberately so that we can gain unauthorised access later. We are in enough trouble as it is."
"All right, but just log out please. You may not send or copy anything."
Hans went over to his terminal, tapped away at the touchscreen briefly, and then joined the others as Carson ushered them out of the room. They left him posting guards at the entrances to the tech-centre and headed down the corridor.
"That wasn't very clever, Katya," said Harry grumpily once they were out of earshot. "If you hadn't suggested logging out, Carson might not have thought of it. We may have been able to access the system remotely and continue our work. I thought you were on our side?"
Katya scowled. "Armitage may be a pompous ass, but he isn't stupid. The first thing he will do is change the system passwords. Besides, you don't think that Hans simply logged out, do you?"
"Oh, I see, is that why he's been grinning like the Cheshire Cat since we left the centre?"
"It had better be," she said, with a menacing glance at the smug-looking German.
They discussed going to Harry's quarters to consider their next move. "I wouldn't put it past Armitage to have bugged our quarters," said Katya. "Let's go to the galley. It is noisy and we will have a better chance of speaking without being overheard."
The galley was crowded, which suited their purpose. With nothing more than an icy glare, Katya ejected a group of technicians from a table at the back of the room.
"I wish I could do that," said Harry admiringly.
They sat down and ordered a meal on the touchscreen menu.
"Well, don't keep us in suspense," he muttered softly to Hans. "What did you do when you logged out?"
"Set up a password override so that we can log in to the system no matter how often they change the passwords."
Harry looked from Hans to Katya. "By Jove, you two are a lot more devious that I gave you credit for. But surely all of this cloak and dagger is unnecessary? We are so close to success. If Armitage forces everone to go back to the blueprint, the project could be set back months. Surely we can talk to him when he has calmed down and get him to see reason?"
The other two looked extremely doubtful. "It's worth a try, I suppose," said Katya. "But you will have to be the one to approach him, Harry. He won't listen to Hans or me."<
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There was a sudden hush in the room and the three of them looked up nervously, expecting to see Armitage or Carson bearing down on them. Instead, they saw that everyone's attention had been captured by a breaking news story on the large wall-screen. Katya began to relax, until she saw what was happening. Someone turned up the volume.
"...stash of nuclear missiles hidden somewhere in the Urals. The warlord is Ivan Belanov, a fifty-two year old former stockbroker. How he acquired the missiles is unknown. Military sources speculate that they may be from stockpiles which were unaccounted for after the break-up of the old Soviet Union. Although primitive by today's standards, the missiles have a range capable of hitting almost any target in Europe or Asia, and enough firepower to level a small city. For now, Belanov has threatened only the Kremlin. He demands the resignation of the Russian government by midnight or he will bomb Moscow."
Katya watched in horror at scenes of panic-stricken Muscovites trying desperately to evacuate the city. The police and military forces were trying to impose order, but the situation was hopelessly chaotic. Roads were jammed and fires had broken out. Shops and houses were being looted and people trying to carry off their valuables were being robbed in the streets. Mobs of youths roamed the city, clashing with riot police and there was the occasional exchange of gunfire.
"We cross now to the Kremlin, where our reporter is with the commander of a task force which has been appointed to deal with the threat."
The picture switched to the familiar face of General Yashin. "We have deployed hover-copters to the central and southern Urals," he was saying. "They are equipped with state of the art detection equipment and we are confident that they will find these missiles, if indeed they exist. It is quite possible that this so-called warlord is simply making some bizarre ideological statement. We appeal to the citizens of Moscow to stay in their homes and stay calm. We have positioned tactical jet fighters around the city to shoot down any missiles which may be fired."