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  Zimmerman was not so reticent. ‘If certain death is facing you, Colonel, anything with a better than fifty per cent chance of saving you is worth grabbing.’

  Maltby didn’t disagree but looked as if he wished Zimmerman hadn’t quite put it that way.

  ‘I’m sorry, gentlemen,’ said Linda Meyer. ‘Maybe I’m missing something here but I’m really not clear about what it is you’re asking us to do…’

  Maltby looked to Zimmerman who signalled with a nod that he should continue. ‘You people here are the brightest and best we have when it comes to health and security matters… on both sides of the pond. We need you to use your ingenuity and initiative to come up with answers. We need vaccines against the bacteria and viruses that threaten our security and we need them fast. Generous funding will be made available to support the best ideas and it will be channelled… discreetly… and with a minimum of bureaucracy.’

  ‘So you want us to succeed in persuading the drug companies to cooperate where you have failed?’ asked the woman from the Department of Health.

  ‘That would be one way,’ replied Maltby. ‘But maybe there are others. Who knows? We’re calling for initiative from the best minds we have.’

  ‘God, I need a drink,’ said Coates as he and Langley made their way to the bar. ‘What d’you make of all that?’

  A waiter materialised at their table and Coates ordered two large gin and tonics.

  ‘Rock and hard place spring to mind,’ said Langley. ‘But let’s be honest, this is a situation that’s been waiting to happen. Public obsession with safety is grinding everything to a halt in the UK. Councils can’t put up a bloody Christmas tree without Health and Safety getting involved and lawyers getting all excited about the prospects. Kids aren’t allowed out on bicycles unless they’re encased in carbon fibre.’

  ‘We must make grazed knees a thing of the past,’ intoned Coates.

  ‘So how do we convince the boffins that they should spend time and money developing new vaccines for an ungrateful public who’ll require a public debate on Newsnight and a consultation with their solicitor before they’ll even consider taking them?’

  Coates ran his finger lightly round the rim of his glass. ‘Well, Maltby did say that money wouldn’t be a problem… That’s a big plus.’

  ‘But the American pointed out that the pharmaceutical companies are already awash with cash.’

  ‘The big ones are…’

  ‘Would small ones have the wherewithal?’ asked Langley, picking up on Coates’ nuance.

  ‘They may not have the wherewithal but they do have the brains,’ countered Coates thoughtfully. ‘Some of the best biological scientists of our generation are to be found in small biotech companies. As I see it, there are three facets to the problem, design of new vaccines, testing them and finally manufacturing them on a scale large enough to protect an entire population. Let’s take it one step at a time. If you don’t have a vaccine, you don’t have anything to test or manufacture.’

  ‘So if I understand you correctly, you propose using government cash to help small biotech companies come up with new ones?’

  ‘Not quite,’ replied Coates as if he were still thinking it through. ‘We couldn’t possibly fund hundreds of small companies, knowing that most of them would fail anyway.’

  ‘Well, they’re certainly not going to do it themselves and the City isn’t going to touch investing in vaccines with a bargepole.’

  ‘I was thinking more along the lines… of a prize, a prize for success.’

  Langley’s eyes opened wide. ‘You know, you may have something there. Everyone loves prizes these days. There seem to be prizes for everything. I sometimes think it can only be a matter of time before we see Wogan presenting prizes at the glittering binmen’s awards… The nominations for disposal of garden refuse are…’

  ‘We’d have to do it discreetly because we wouldn’t want to antagonise the big companies any more than we have already but, if the stakes were high enough, I reckon we might tempt quite a few smaller concerns to put their financial toes in the water and broaden their development base. What d’you think?’

  Langley’s response was positive. ‘It would have the added attraction of limiting the entrants to those who really thought they could do it and more than that, to those who could persuade their bosses and backers that they could. Brilliant! We’d attract the brightest and best without even having to fund them unless they were successful. I think I’m going to buy you another very large drink.’

  ONE

  Meeting of the Special Policies and Strategies Group

  Downing Street

  London

  February 2006

  There was an informal feel to the SPS group meeting in Downing Street as indeed there always was when Oliver Noones was in the chair. He favoured the gentleman’s club approach to the exchange of ideas despite the fact that two of the six people present were women. It was not the function of the group to formulate policy: this would come further down the line. Rather, it was their brief to consider all aspects of life in the UK and discuss possible courses of action without reference to political dogma.

  ‘Frankly, ladies and gentlemen, Her Majesty’s Government could do with some good news from you. In fact, if truth be told, HMG would welcome some good news from anyone right now such is the valley of darkness we currently find ourselves in. Trevor, Susan, I don’t suppose you’ve come up with an exit strategy from Iraq that leaves us looking good?’

  Professors Trevor Godman and Susan Murray smiled but treated the question as rhetorical.

  ‘I feared as much. What are your conclusions on that benighted place, dare I ask?’

  ‘Iraq is a complete disaster,’ said Godman. ‘Public opinion is wholly against it and can’t be turned round but we can’t pull out unilaterally. If we do, it will all have been for nothing and we can kiss the special relationship goodbye.’

  ‘Something the American Right are keen to do anyway,’ added Susan Murray. ‘But we must make it clear to the Americans that we will not be drawn into committing any more troops. Apart from anything else, we’re overstretched as it is, so if they want to push up the ante and commit more soldiers, that’s up to them.’

  ‘It would also be a good idea,’ continued Godman, ‘if pressure were brought to bear on George W to back-pedal on the “war against terror” rhetoric. Nobody’s buying it any more and it’s stopping any meaningful dialogue opening up between us and Syria and Iran. Improving relations with these countries is vital in stopping the flow of weapons to subversives in Iraq.’

  ‘Thank you for that,’ said Noones. ‘Any thoughts on the state of play in Afghanistan?’

  ‘Only that no invading force has ever emerged from Afghanistan with heads held high,’ said Susan Murray.

  ‘Rudyard Kipling could have told HMG that,’ added Godman.

  ‘Maybe I’ll refrain from passing that on,’ said Noones with a wry smile. ‘And now to matters domestic.’ He turned his attention to another couple at the table. ‘Charles, Miriam, HMG is becoming more and more concerned about young people being perceived as rude, lazy and shiftless these days and how we deal with the problem is turning out to be something of a political football at the moment. As one paper put it, “Can there be any more dispiriting phrase in the English language than ‘local youths’?”’

  Miriam Carlyle, chair of the educational psychology unit at Birmingham University, adopted a pained expression and said, ‘HMG has only itself to blame. An entire generation has been brought up to believe that they are untapped reservoirs of talent and potential just waiting to be discovered — no losers, only winners. If they have their way we’re going to finish up with a nation of TV presenters… with nothing to present because anyone with any real talent and ability will have been declared elitist and forced into feigning mediocrity in order to fit in.’

  ‘I think we all recognise the problem but what do we do about it?’

  Charles Motram, Miriam’s co
unterpart at the University of Sussex, said, ‘It’s our considered view that it’s already too late for the sixteen and overs. The die is cast in their case. They’re going to have to make lots of unpleasant discoveries for themselves, but it might just be possible to do something about those just becoming teenagers. It’s an old enough idea but we feel that summer camps would help promote an environment where the importance of self-discipline and self-reliance could be nurtured.’

  ‘Boot camps?’

  ‘No, definitely not. There should be no suggestion of punishment. We are thinking more along the lines of summer schools in places like the Welsh Mountains, the Lake District, the Scottish Highlands where teamwork can be encouraged and kids can see for themselves the value of getting along with each other, relying on their team-mates in tough situations, earning respect instead of demanding it.’

  ‘Sorry, but I don’t see how this differs from similar schemes that have gone before,’ said Noones.

  ‘The difference is that HMG pays for it.’

  ‘Why?’ asked a surprised Noones.

  ‘What parent of a thirteen-year-old these days is going to say “no” to the chance of getting rid of their offspring for a couple of weeks when no charge is involved? They’d get a break from the relentless demands for money and gadgetry, the kids would gain some notion of self-respect and the rules of social interaction, and HMG might win back a lost generation. We see this as win-win all round.’

  ‘An intriguing notion. Thank you, Charles and you too, Miriam. I’ll certainly pass on your thoughts. And now, Gerald,’ said Noones, turning to Sir Gerald Coates, ‘you are going to make my day by telling me one of your little biotech companies has come up with a vaccine against bird ’flu?’

  ‘I’m afraid not,’ confessed Coates. ‘The problem remains that while the form of the virus that will pass from human to human does not yet exist, it remains impossible to design a vaccine against it. It’s quite possible to design one against the H5N1 strain but there’s no guarantee that it will be effective against a mutant variant of it. We have had significant success, however, with another vaccine.’

  Coates paused to enjoy the moment and the expression that appeared on Noones’ face. ‘One of the companies we tempted with the prospect of filthy lucre has come up trumps. In fact, we are rapidly approaching stage two which will involve setting up testing regimens. That’s something I’d like to speak to you about later, if that’s all right?’

  ‘By all means. It’s wonderful to hear something positive for a change.’

  The meeting broke up shortly afterwards with Jeffrey Langley asking Coates if he wanted him to stay.

  ‘No point in both of us being here,’ replied Coates.

  ‘Remember to ask about the cash,’ said Langley.

  ‘What was that about cash?’ asked Oliver Noones as he returned from seeing the others to the door.

  ‘The biotech company I was talking about want to know just when they will be eligible for the prize money. Only natural, I suppose. They’ve invested quite a bit so far.’

  ‘Why don’t we go along to my office? I’ll break out the Amontillado and you can tell me all about it.’

  Twenty minutes into the conversation, Noones got up to replenish their glasses and said, ‘Well, I must say it all sounds absolutely splendid, just the sort of thing we’ve been hoping for. What was that last point you said I should stress to the Cabinet?’

  ‘It’s not a live vaccine and apparently that’s a big plus when it comes to safety concerns.’

  ‘I’m afraid you’ve lost me there. What does “not a live vaccine” mean in this context exactly?’

  ‘Vaccines are usually live viruses themselves but they have been attenuated or disabled in some way so that they won’t give rise to disease but will still stimulate the production of antibodies in the recipient which will protect him or her against the real thing. For instance, vaccinia is a live virus that will give people protection against smallpox. The trouble is that although most of us don’t suffer any adverse reaction to being infected with vaccinia, every now and then some poor soul does. They develop a condition called disseminated vaccinia and that’s almost as bad as smallpox itself.’

  ‘I see. No such thing as an altogether safe vaccine…’

  ‘Exactly. That’s why it’s better to use a non-live vaccine if at all possible.’

  ‘Got you,’ said Noones. ‘And this is one. I’m sure the powers-that-be will be delighted.’

  Coates circled the glass in his hand betraying a little hesitation when he said, ‘Now that we have the vaccine… it will have to be tested.’

  ‘What does that entail?’

  ‘Testing on animals in the first instance where the official hurdles are low and then on humans where they are becoming practically insurmountable…’

  ‘Perhaps in the normal course of events…’ said Noones thoughtfully. ‘Something tells me that it when it comes to a contest between national security and public paranoia, someone in government is going to have to make what they delight in calling… a tough choice

  … a difficult decision. Only this time… it’s going to be for real. Leave it with me.’

  ‘You won’t forget to enquire about the money?’

  ‘I’ll be in touch.’

  St Clair Genomics

  Cambridge

  ‘Well, Alan, all ready to give your presentation?’ asked Phillip St Clair.

  ‘As ready as I’ll ever be,’ replied the young post-doctoral scientist who for the first time since an aunt’s funeral some eighteen months before was wearing a collar and tie instead of a T-shirt. He was about to present his research to the financial backers of St Clair Genomics — a consortium of people who had been persuaded to invest heavily in an exciting new aspect of molecular biology by the founder of the company, Phillip St Clair.

  Some five years had passed without the money men seeing anything like the return they had imagined at the outset, but they had persevered, aware that this was the case for most who had invested in a science that had promised much but, to date, had delivered little. Genetic engineering had not turned out to be the golden goose many had thought it might be and the situation wasn’t being helped by the government who had applied strict rules and regulations at every turn in order to appease a public suspicious of anything to do with gene alteration.

  It had therefore been something of a major triumph for St Clair to convince his backers to sink even more money into the company in order that Alan, one of his six researchers, could develop his ideas about a new vaccine in the hope of winning government approval and a substantial monetary prize for the company. He was under no illusion, however, that this might be the last gamble the backers would take on his company.

  ‘They’re here,’ announced Vicky Reid, St Clair’s secretary, appearing in the doorway with an excited look on her face.

  ‘Good show,’ said St Clair. ‘Good luck, Alan.’

  Alan was left alone to carry out a last check on the Power-Point slides he planned to use in the presentation. This was a big moment in his career and he knew it. Nothing could be left to chance.

  Four extremely well-dressed men were shown into the small seminar room where Alan awaited them. He could smell the expensive leather of their briefcases and the subtle tones of their aftershave as they passed in front of him. It was Vicky who ushered them in, her face wreathed in smiles. St Clair brought up the rear.

  ‘Would you gentlemen care for coffee?’ asked Vicky.

  ‘I think we’re fine,’ replied Ruben Van Cleef, director of venture investment at Edelman’s Bank.

  Vicky smiled and withdrew and, to Alan’s dismay, St Clair said, ‘If you’d just excuse me too for a few minutes, I’ll leave you in Alan’s capable hands.’

  Alan suddenly felt very much alone as he faced the four unsmiling men in front of him. ‘Perhaps I should just start?’ he ventured.

  He took the four blank stares as a yes. ‘I think you probably know the basics of
what I’ve been doing,’ he began, construing the continuing blank stares as a maybe. ‘Instead of searching for weakened or attenuated strains of virulent organisms, I’ve been investigating the possibility of altering their genome so that they are no longer viable but can still give rise to an immune response in people.’

  ‘Their “genome” is their DNA, is that right?’ asked Van Cleef.

  ‘’Yes, or RNA in some cases. Some viruses have RNA as their genetic material instead…’

  ‘Whatever,’ said Van Cleef with a dismissive hand gesture. ‘So you damage the bug so it can no longer kill people and then inject it into them so they’ll make antibodies against the real bug which will?’

  ‘That’s it in a nutshell,’ agreed Alan.

  ‘So how has it been going?’ asked another of the investors.

  Alan felt flustered. He had prepared a whole seminar about what he’d been doing and the pitfalls he’d encountered along the way. He’d planned on giving that before addressing such questions. His discomfort, however, was short-lived.

  ‘I think I can answer that,’ said St Clair, coming back into the room carrying an ice bucket with champagne in it. Vicky trooped along behind with a tray of glasses.

  ‘First let me apologise for this little deception but I know more than you gentlemen do, including you, Alan. The answer to your question is that it’s been going very well indeed… The government has agreed to award its first vaccine development prize to our company for Alan’s vaccine.’

  Smiles broke out all round and the buzz of congratulations filled the room. Alan sank into a chair to close his eyes for a moment as if thanking the Almighty.

  ‘It’s early days,’ continued St Clair. ‘But our man in Whitehall assures me that the sum of four million pounds will be paid to the company in the next few weeks with the remaining eighteen million to be paid after successful trials.’

  Alan was showered in congratulations and praise while St Clair concentrated on opening the champagne. ‘Apart from the bonus of the prize money,’ he said before popping the cork, ‘the rights to the vaccine will remain ours and a very favourable licensing contract will be drawn up between ourselves and the government once all the safety tests have been completed.’