the Underground has its way there won’t be anyone left to be in charge of. We have to destroy them, Hillary. We need to do it now.’
Hillary nodded uncomfortably. ‘Very well. I’ll let the Chief of Police and the Catchers know,’ she said, her voice quieter. ‘So what do we say? What do we tell the people? Foreign governments?’
Richard allowed the corners of his mouth to curl upwards. ‘We tell the truth. A population gripped by fear is a good thing. It will help us. If we encourage people to suspect their neighbours then it will make them welcome police swooping in at the dead of night. We will take bodies at the first sign of illness instead of when it’s taken hold. A slight fever and we’ll swoop. If there are protests, we’ll take the protesters. We’ll take anyone who challenges us, Hillary, and the ones left will let us do it because they will be afraid.’
Hillary nodded silently. Then she looked up at Richard tentatively. ‘The batch that was contaminated,’ she said. ‘Is there any way of knowing… who might be… where the batch might have…’
Richard nodded seriously and did his best not to smile. It had almost been too easy. She was afraid, just as everyone else would be, and in fear she turned to him, the benefactor, the saviour. He reached into his desk drawer, took out a blister pack of tablets and handed them to her. ‘Take these. You can be sure they’re safe,’ he lied. The contamination may have been fabricated, but if the drugs had been weakened by endless copying, who knew if this batch was any safer than another?
Hillary took them. ‘Obviously it’s because of my job,’ she said quickly. ‘And we’ll need more safe batches for all key workers. Police, Catchers, and so on.’
‘Yes,’ Richard nodded smoothly. ‘They’ll be with you tomorrow.’
‘And you’ll find out how many? We need to be prepared. I need to talk to my counterparts around the world.’
‘Of course you do,’ Richard said. ‘You’ll be the first to know when we’re sure of the scale of this disaster. I’m very grateful, Hillary. I know this isn’t easy for you.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ Hillary said, standing up. ‘But at least you have finally told me the truth.’
‘I’d have told you sooner if I could,’ Richard said, looking at her earnestly, ‘but a whiff of this could turn to mass panic.’
‘It could,’ Hillary said, nodding, frown line etched into her forehead.
‘However, mass panic would enable more pressing measures to be taken,’ Richard continued. ‘We have to prevent another attack. We need to focus all our resources on crushing the Underground once and for all. All its supporters. Anyone who has ever shown any sympathy for their cause.’
‘Road blocks, more police, limited movement, more surveillance – yes,’ Hillary nodded.
‘Protesters taken into custody, gatherings banned,’ Richard suggested. ‘Opt Outs and suspected Underground sympathisers rounded up.’
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Hillary said, standing up. Richard pressed a button on his desk and immediately a guard appeared to escort her out of the building. ‘Well, thank you, Richard,’ she said as she left. ‘We’ll work together on this. From now on. You tell me everything.’
‘Everything,’ Richard assured her, waiting until the door had closed behind him before he picked up the phone. He had bought some time; now he had to use it wisely. ‘Derek,’ he said. ‘Come up, please. We have some work to do.’
.
Chapter Eight
Julia Sharpe poured herself another gin and tonic and returned to the plump cushions of her sofa. It was 4 p.m. – an in-between time that Julia had, lately, begun to fill with a drink and programme downloads. In truth she’d have preferred wine, but that wasn’t an option nowadays. Nothing that had travelled more than fifty miles was allowed, and the recent cold summers had put a stop to the south-east’s wine production. But gin was OK. It did the
Hillary nodded uncomfortably. ‘Very well. I’ll let the Chief of Police and the Catchers know,’ she said, her voice quieter. ‘So what do we say? What do we tell the people? Foreign governments?’
Richard allowed the corners of his mouth to curl upwards. ‘We tell the truth. A population gripped by fear is a good thing. It will help us. If we encourage people to suspect their neighbours then it will make them welcome police swooping in at the dead of night. We will take bodies at the first sign of illness instead of when it’s taken hold. A slight fever and we’ll swoop. If there are protests, we’ll take the protesters. We’ll take anyone who challenges us, Hillary, and the ones left will let us do it because they will be afraid.’
Hillary nodded silently. Then she looked up at Richard tentatively. ‘The batch that was contaminated,’ she said. ‘Is there any way of knowing… who might be… where the batch might have…’
Richard nodded seriously and did his best not to smile. It had almost been too easy. She was afraid, just as everyone else would be, and in fear she turned to him, the benefactor, the saviour. He reached into his desk drawer, took out a blister pack of tablets and handed them to her. ‘Take these. You can be sure they’re safe,’ he lied. The contamination may have been fabricated, but if the drugs had been weakened by endless copying, who knew if this batch was any safer than another?
Hillary took them. ‘Obviously it’s because of my job,’ she said quickly. ‘And we’ll need more safe batches for all key workers. Police, Catchers, and so on.’
‘Yes,’ Richard nodded smoothly. ‘They’ll be with you tomorrow.’
‘And you’ll find out how many? We need to be prepared. I need to talk to my counterparts around the world.’
‘Of course you do,’ Richard said. ‘You’ll be the first to know when we’re sure of the scale of this disaster. I’m very grateful, Hillary. I know this isn’t easy for you.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ Hillary said, standing up. ‘But at least you have finally told me the truth.’
‘I’d have told you sooner if I could,’ Richard said, looking at her earnestly, ‘but a whiff of this could turn to mass panic.’
‘It could,’ Hillary said, nodding, frown line etched into her forehead.
‘However, mass panic would enable more pressing measures to be taken,’ Richard continued. ‘We have to prevent another attack. We need to focus all our resources on crushing the Underground once and for all. All its supporters. Anyone who has ever shown any sympathy for their cause.’
‘Road blocks, more police, limited movement, more surveillance – yes,’ Hillary nodded.
‘Protesters taken into custody, gatherings banned,’ Richard suggested. ‘Opt Outs and suspected Underground sympathisers rounded up.’
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Hillary said, standing up. Richard pressed a button on his desk and immediately a guard appeared to escort her out of the building. ‘Well, thank you, Richard,’ she said as she left. ‘We’ll work together on this. From now on. You tell me everything.’
‘Everything,’ Richard assured her, waiting until the door had closed behind him before he picked up the phone. He had bought some time; now he had to use it wisely. ‘Derek,’ he said. ‘Come up, please. We have some work to do.’
.
Chapter Eight
Julia Sharpe poured herself another gin and tonic and returned to the plump cushions of her sofa. It was 4 p.m. – an in-between time that Julia had, lately, begun to fill with a drink and programme downloads. In truth she’d have preferred wine, but that wasn’t an option nowadays. Nothing that had travelled more than fifty miles was allowed, and the recent cold summers had put a stop to the south-east’s wine production. But gin was OK. It did the
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