A new short story from the new collection out later this year (now available – A Short Walk and other dark short stories)

P113

We were in a time faced with spiraling medical costs for the elderly, who in our wisdom of trying to keep alive longer, had overlooked making any kind of provision for people who may actually live an extra 20 years compared to only a generation ago.

We knew we needed to stop people getting old so that they didn’t need as much care. After all, ageing had been deemed a disease, which surely could be cured or reversed? Well, that’s what we were working on. My name is Dr Boston Godfrey and I’m just a small part of a large team of pharmaceutical scientists working on this conundrum.

“Hey Boston, did you hear? We’ve had a breakthrough, apparently one of the other teams have passed stage 1 and we’ve been given the go ahead for stage 2 to begin”.

Dr Enrique Pimlo was a good friend and a colleague, having gone through medical school together, our friendship had passed the test of time. Nearly four decades in fact. I was glad to be working with him, some of the people coming through here didn’t have the best set of morals if you catch my drift. You needed people with integrity and a vision in my opinion, and the two don’t always go hand in hand.

“No, I didn’t know. Which team was it? I bet it was that smarmy git Gerald, his ability to get there first is starting to look a bit shifty if you ask me”.

I hated Gerald. He was the type of man you were glad you didn’t turn into. A decade younger than me, brash, arrogant and appeared to be brilliant, to everyone else. It just seemed such an act to me, over the top sweeping motions as he explained things, flamboyant storytelling and such a pitch to his laugh it made your ears explode.

“Yep, you guessed it. Of course it was Gerald, sometimes I think we are only here as his backup singers, you know?”

Enrique couldn’t help smiling as he said it and gave me a friendly slap on the back. He didn’t mind Gerald and found it hilarious I had such a disliking for him. He said I was jealous. And for a moment I considered if I was, but there really was something else. The man just got under my skin.

“What a surprise, I guess we really are just here for the numbers. Oh well, at least they pay us and pretend to let us work here”.

I had to laugh, it seemed silly after all to be competitive when you remembered what you did saved lives. Or made corporations very rich, or maybe a bit of both. The line was getting a bit blurry these days.

“Ok, well tomorrow we move on to the next phase. I guess lets finish for today and start a fresh in the morning”.

Enrique agreed and we said our goodbyes for the day. It would be good to start something a bit different, these trials were the culmination of years of hard work, but sometimes it could also be a bit monotonous. Many failures, but still the ultimate goal always in sight.

As I made my way home on the tube, I could overhear a few snippets of conversations. People moaning about not enough space to sit, getting made redundant, going to be homeless. It was hard to believe we really were in such a state with basic amenities and living standards. My lab was so high-tech and right in the city, we had access to so much funding and the best of everything in our quest to cure everything. It made me wonder, why were we letting the world rot if we were really trying to save it?

Listening to the various voices getting in their ten pence worth, one cut through them and made my ears prick up.

“I’ve reported it, of course I’ve reported it. They aren’t taking me seriously. I’m telling you, that’s five pensioners now. All from the same road, I swear something is going on. They’re probably bumping them off so we can take their houses, I wouldn’t put it past them you know”.

I caught sight of the woman divulging her business for all to hear, she wasn’t trying to be discreet. Big brown perm, stern face and if she were standing I’m pretty sure would have had her hands on her hips. But her voice was now carrying and the whole carriage could hear which I think was her intention.

“You hear me you lot? Somethings going on, you mark my words”.

And with a final huff she crossed her arms in a defiant stance while her companion tried to quiet her down. Embarrassment clear on her face.

The rest of journey was uneventful and after reaching my stop, I made my way through the various tunnels and steps filled with hurrying people. It was a different world down there, so far beneath the surface with artificial air. I tried not to think about it while down there, it made me feel claustrophobic and want to panic. What if you never got out? What if there was a flood? What if they put something in the filtration system? I usually managed to keep those thoughts at bay until I got to the surface. The fresh air always tasted a bit fresher straight out of the underground.

Another short bus journey and I was home, exhausted by the input of my journey, it almost felt like a days work navigating London. I opened the door and was greeted by my dark home, my slice of quiet in this hectic city. But most unusually there was a message on my home phone. The blinking red light making the hallway look momentarily like Christmas.

But as this was so unusual, I just stopped and stared at it. My ex-wife and children had my mobile and never called the house phone. After a couple more minutes of wondering, I felt stupid wasting time thinking about it, when I could just listen to the message and know. I stepped forward and pressed the button.

“Boston, I hope you get this message, hell, I hope this is still your number. There’s something going on, remember Chiggles and Pony? Well, they’ve gone missing. They were close to something, said they were in a clinical trial, had been approached by your company but I can’t get anyone to look into it. I’ll make contact again, just see if you can find anything”.

He didn’t leave a name, he didn’t have to. That was Archie. There had been a group of us back in the day, me, Enrique, Archie, Chiggles and Pony. Officially known as Charles and Tom, we all went through university together, each branching off info different areas of science and medicine. We hadn’t kept in touch as much as you might think with all the modern forms of communication. Instead we hooked up every five years or so to just check in I guess.

We were a year or so away from the next meet up so I wasn’t sure why Archie would even be worried, how did he know they had gone missing? Without a number to call him back on I could only speculate, but it did get me thinking. I put the TV on for some background noise, suddenly the house was a bit too quiet. Silence can be very distracting. Within seconds of changing the channel to the local news, a picture of the woman on the tube was all over the screen. Big perm and stern face, her photograph wasn’t very flattering but was true to life. But it was the story that had fixated me – she was dead. Apparently stabbed in the tube station, random they said, died within seconds.

I was shocked, it must have happened behind me, or at the next stop maybe. I tried to remember if she had got off the tube when I did. I guess it didn’t matter, it had happened. It didn’t leave my mind though, the sudden breakthrough at work, Archie’s call and then this. I just couldn’t work out how it all fitted.

A quick fish and chip dinner from across the road and some more mindless TV, I felt the need for sleep. There was so much wracking around in my brain it felt pushed to the limit, a bit of rest always helped. And it would have, had I got some. It was probably the most fitful sleep I’ve ever encountered, I was beyond restless and got up at 4 am more from frustration that anything else.

Showered and ready to face the day, I got a bus to work, realising I was up before the underground had even started. The thoughts of the previous day mulling over in mind keeping me occupied, so much so, I was a bit startled when we arrived at my stop. I hadn’t pressed the button and would have missed it. The bus driver gave me a nod as I stumbled down the steps. Clearly not as awake as I thought I was. But as I arrived at work a few minutes later I was definitely awake. I was surprised to see the facility well lit, and two buses parked outside, like there was a tour group. Let me tell you, this really wasn’t that type of facility.

I wasn’t sure if I should go in, a strange feeling that nothing was the same anymore. I couldn’t be further away from the normal feeling of only hours ago when I had left. I walked towards the front door as if nothing was out of the ordinary, focused on just getting to my work station and figuring out what to do next. I gave the security guard a nod and showed him my I.D, not sure if he would let me in. I felt like an impostor suddenly. He nodded back and I walked through and in the direction of my department. I’m sure my walk must have been a bit odd as I was trying to walk casually without knowing what that should look like. And over thinking the process of one foot in front of the other while doing it wasn’t doing me any favours.

But I made it. Sat down and wondered what the hell was wrong with me. Why did I feel so spooked? I started to laugh to myself, I looked around the room and it was so neat, sterile and clinical it made me feel better. Everything all nice and neat and logical. Glancing around again, my eyes stopped at the room at the back. The research data room. The room which held all the records, all the experiment data and results. That’s where I needed to go. We usually reviewed the data together at monthly meetings, in an organised edited format.

It occurred to me then, I had never seen the full data, I had never looked through all the results to work out how Gerald has made all of his breakthroughs. Often onto the next project quicker than you would imagine, never to go back and revisit the work already done. Once it’s signed off, the money comes in, it gets archived. But now I wanted to know, something was compelling me to know. Maybe I already did, I just didn’t want to face it.

I opened the door and went inside. Again it was immaculate and everything in its place. I found the current projects area and the filing cabinet named P113. I should have realised with only paper files, something was amiss. No digital records of what we were doing, we had to hand write all reports. I opened the first draw, it was full of notes and reports, not so immaculate on the inside. But one little post it note on the side gave me more than cause for concern.

‘P113. Affect-ability cut off age 40, supply age 60 with no deterioration. Product roll out imminent. Charge at least 1M per dose. Specialist customers only’.

I stared at it. It had such a small amount of information yet so much. I knew what notes like this meant and I didn’t want to. I pulled out the file marked Trial 1 Subjects and opened it. There were hundreds of pictures of people attached to worksheets, all marked as completed. I was about the close that file and move to the next one when a photo fell out, landing neatly on the desk looking up at me. It was Charles.

My brain was having a hard time piecing this together. Where was Charles and how had he been involved in the trial? I flicked through the file again and looked at the pictures again. I found Tom too in there, but what I wasn’t expecting was to recognise so many of the faces. All academics, all around the same age, all getting closer to retirement, many of them prominent back in their day.

I checked the next file marked Trial 2 Subjects, this wasn’t even meant to be underway yet. But upon opening this one, I could see this was actually the test subjects for the new drug. Then what were the first subjects for? I kept going, scanning the photos and again seeing faces I recognised, but these were younger people, in fact all under 40. Famous people. Ones who might have a spare million or five knocking around I thought? I quickly closed the file and left the research room. I gathered myself and exited the building as quickly as I could without looking too suspicious.

I got home and packed a bag, giving my house a last look before I left, I had a feeling it would be quite some time before I would be able to come back. I needed to find Archie and Enrique. All the pieces had started to come together and it didn’t take me long to work out I fell into the Trial 2 category. This was never meant to be for the general population or to help mankind. I felt so naïve. We couldn’t have everyone living forever now could we? It was going to be heralded as the new wonder drug that could slow down ageing and increase your intelligence, if you could afford it.

And the rest of us? Well a certain number of us were to be the main ingredient…

(c) K L Wicks – MKW Publishing