Roskov book 17, p.12
Roskov, Book 17, page 12
I placed his down, and we sat. I stated, ‘Traditions and customs, afternoon tea, a step above the peace pipe.’
He nodded, and sipped his tea, as if it was not something he did very often.
I began, ‘I was meaning to ask … about the other angels, the ones I haven’t met yet.’
‘Gabrial is the pushy one, and the one that thinks he’s the leader. Elbek and Tok are … quiet and studious I suppose, and are more like the remainder, who are spread far and wide around the globe.’
‘You meet up?’
‘No. We did, and we probably should, but … it has been a thousand years since I have spoken to some of them.’
‘Just you and Gabrial in Europe?’
‘Yes, and … we have been at odds for some millennia. I can see what God wants, so can he, but he insists on defying God whilst staying just inside the rules.’
I stared into the fire. ‘I used your power to conduct an underground survey in Corsica.’
‘I saw, yes, and I puzzled it at first. Now I can see the sense in it. You help Scorfo Valley to make money, and with that money you can expand your social programmes.’
I nodded at him. ‘Does anyone in Israel question what I did there?’
‘A great many people whisper behind closed doors, some speculation, no hard evidence.’
‘And the Prime Minister there…’
‘Is terrified of being called a nutcase, which is odd for a Jewish leader - to fear the truth about God.’
‘A belief system needs just enough belief and not an absolute belief.’
‘True, very true,’ he commended. ‘There must be doubt.’
‘The old Jewish man I cured on the plane?’
‘Has a new life, and is happy, but is tight-lipped about his body’s ability to confound the doctors – and he smugly criticises those doctors.’
I nodded at that. ‘And are you allowed to hint at Leo’s role?’
‘I was very surprised when he appeared again, since his departure was … loud and angry; he was angry at God. But that anger was caused by Gabrial, so … forgiveness seems to be evident.
‘As to his role … I do not have a clue at the moment, he seems a little redundant.’
‘More treasure in Corsica?’ I asked.
‘Nothing significant. So he’s an enigma at the moment.’
I sipped my tea. ‘It will play out as it’s supposed to play out, I guess.’
‘You are starting to sound like the Richard of Charmaine of old, who trusted to fate. The modern Roskov is far more of a sceptic.’
‘So something in me changed over the years,’ I noted. ‘The First World War, Kenya.’ I glanced at him. ‘You know about Leopold’s father?’
He stared back at me, squinting. ‘I do, yes. Do you plan on making use of that relationship?’
‘Gabrial wanted Leo provoked, and dead, and … not reincarnated, he hates his son, so … I’m not sure how I might use that relationship, other than to piss-off Gabrial.’
‘Gabrial will be … vexed, to find out about Leopold, since he worked hard to corrupt Leopold. I am also at a loss to see how Leo would be anything but a hindrance to you, and a further cause of attack by Gabrial.’
‘Leo is here for a reason, I just need to figure it out.’
‘You and me both, but that makes life more interesting, the unknown variables.’
I nodded, and sipped my tea. ‘Oh, my ghost lady from The Ark, she’s now manifesting herself solid, and human. She even breathes and has a heartbeat.’
‘I was shocked when I first noticed her in physical form, outside your family house; it has not been done before. Your mind has turned the energy into a physical form, not just an apparition, the first time that has ever happened.
‘But The Ark’s energy has only ever been transferred to one human before, and that is you, so it is beyond even my knowledge. It seems that I am not supposed to know how it works or what it was meant to do.’
That evening we again headed to the club, showing our faces to the guests and greeting as many people as we could, the crowd here always polite and friendly, and I again enjoyed some poker – but just for chips.
Post production
The next day at noon, we sat in the Rasmussen’s lounge with two members of the film crew and we watched the video. Well, Rolf and Ingrid made their excuses and “had things to do”.
The twins were happy with the quality, and that I had covered everything, and they noted that I sounded detached and medical. I would now have our two models look at it in case they objected to any aspect, and they would sign to say that they had no objections.
The outtakes made the twins laugh, and Bill considered it to have been well made – but that Tony Blair might not be amused.
All we needed now were the subtitles in many languages, and Rolf was already busy getting the distribution company fired-up; they would soon start copying the video from a DVD master.
Our German publisher would plug it widely for us around Europe, and our Mexican company would cover the States and South America as with the Claudia video, which was still selling.
Vagifem had taken a loan from us and were busy ramping up, but Rolf had explained to them that the first video would be keenly watched no sooner than two weeks from now.
At that time, when the videos would be available mail order, I would sit a few interviews and plug the video around Europe and in the States. And Rolf was certain that we could make nine Euro a video profit on mass production, more on DVD sales.
As for the Vagifem, it sold at ten Euro a bottle, and the margin was good, almost half, so our newly acquired Belgian company would do well.
David Hutton called. ‘I spoke to The Sun newspaper and we collated our lists of names, men as well as women in Epsom and southern England, and … it stands at a hundred and thirteen so far.’
My eyes widened. ‘Directly linked … to Preston?’
‘Yes. The women all fingered him as the handsome stranger with no condoms, but that he had not been with a girl in six months. Same storyline was used by him each time.
‘Those girls later had partners, noted after three months had lapsed, and they had longish sexual relations with no condom, the men tested and now positive.
‘And some of those men passed it on, a few of them, and the NHS has a person tracking the spread as a cluster, and … it will go higher, and there are fifty names not checked out yet.’
I heaved a sigh. ‘What a fucking mess.’
‘The bars and nightclubs in Epsom are said to be very quiet, young people are running scared, a lot of angry finger pointing at the police still.’
‘How many have you relocated?’
‘Forty-six for far, rents paid a year up-front.’
After the call, I called the UK, the Cabinet Office, finally put through, a few people in with the Prime Minister, including the Home Secretary.
‘Roskov?’
‘Prime Minister, you … have a right to know and to … plan things out, but the Epsom AIDS cluster linked to Paul Preston, it … it’s over a hundred and heading towards two hundred.’
I could hear the background chatter for ten seconds.
‘These are confirmed, and linked?’ the PM asked me.
‘Yes, and all may join the lawsuit.’
‘Thanks for letting me know. And the media?’
‘The Sun newspaper has the detail, and they won’t shut up obviously. So … good luck.’ I cut the call.
After the call, Rolf and Ingrid could see my look and were worried. I told them, ‘The man in Epsom, England, with AIDS, we … can now identify more than a hundred people infected, and that total could double.’
‘From one man!’ Rolf gasped.
‘This has been going on for three years. He passed it to as many young girls as he could, and they’ve each had up to five partners since, and those partners have had sex with other girls…’
‘My god,’ Rolf let out.
I told them, ‘Young people in nightclubs in Britain are … sexually active.’
‘Not so much now maybe,’ Ingrid noted.
‘No, which is a good thing - they may slow down some. And I’ll make TV adverts about it, which may do some good.’
AIDS
In the morning I decided to head back, a few hard-hitting AIDS adverts on my mind.
Back in a damp Leicester at 2pm, and Doc Lepus wanted to show me the AIDS hospice, so we mounted the vans, Pat and Dingle back on the clock.
At the hospice site I found a high fence and a gate guard, the gate opened for us, the guard benefitting from a yellow fibreglass hut to sit in and stay warm. To the left of that hut, the large muddy hole seen with bulldozers near it was the start of a laboratory.
We drove along a tree-lined winding road, past the staff houses - several now occupied I was informed, and to the main building, the dated stonework still intact. Opposite the main building, which seemed Victorian, sat a modern brick building, two storeys high and already kitted for residents.
Down from the minibus, I could see many builders walking around, and inside we could hear drills going, dust seen on the floor.
Up one floor, and we found a sterile area that was just about ready, beds sat there awaiting a patient and separated by thick plastic curtains floor-to-ceiling that were mostly see-through.
Doc Lepus explained, ‘There are extractor fans, and the air goes up and out a chimney, not recycled at all. In here would sit any patient with an exotic disease - TB or diphtheria, and the thing with AIDS is that it activates those diseases.
‘Those diseases are in all of us yet dormant, and AIDS brings them to life, then they’re a risk to other patients as well as the general public.’
Next door, we found an identical ward, and further along we found a standard ward, equipment being installed.
Doc Lepus explained to me, ‘This will be for patients that have a temporary sickness, one that will pass, they won’t live in here.’
A man in a suit walked over, with his two staff nurses, and they appeared to be NHS staff nurses in uniform. ‘I’m Doctor Grey, Nottingham NHS.’
‘Will you be on loan to us?’ I asked as I shook his hand.
‘Ten of us will be assigned here for a year or so, because when this place opens you’ll pinch all of our AIDS patients, and my research project would end without them.
‘But nurses will come across as well, not so far to drive, and we all get to know the patients, some have been with us a while.’
‘I’ll make sure that you’re spoilt with extra biscuits and that no one will ever get to know … about the extra tax-free biscuits.’
They laughed.
‘Spoil us all you want,’ Doc Grey encouraged.
There were two such wards, but further along I found apartments with two beds in each, plus a TV, a window with a view, then a communal café area at the end of the corridor.
In the next building, accessed by a walkway on the first floor, we found many smaller apartments, each furnished with a single bed, a wardrobe, a TV, some shelves, and again I noted communal areas.
Downstairs sat a large TV room, a games room with pool and snooker, a reading room and library. Next door sat a heated pool, the water to be very chlorinated, and above it sat a gym with treadmills, a view of the trees and lake for people using the treadmills – using the treadmills at a slow walk.
Walking a hundred yards outside, we found half-finished houses, but these houses would be split into large shared apartments, one apartment on each floor, three rooms with single beds in each.
When finished there would be twelve such houses, and beds for seventy-two people.
At the lake, a brisk walk to get there along damp tracks, we found a row of two-storey apartments being constructed, and each apartment would have a lake view. In the distance I could see barrack-block style buildings being built.
Back at the main building, after our brisk walk, we entered the brown brick building opposite the main wards, and inside we found small apartments, or more like rooms, thirty on each floor.
Each had a small shower and toilet, a single bed, and no TV and no room for much of anything else. But there was a café and a TV room down the hall, and above us sat a games room and a reading room.
Behind this block sat an identical block, more small rooms for the residents.
Back at the wards, I met the non-medical manager as Doc Lepus headed off to survey his domain, and the manager had a house here already, his dog moved in. His background was NHS, but in logistics; he was the bean counter.
His deputy also had a house, a wife in that house that did not work here, but she had been a nurse and did not mind just where she was now living.
He showed us to the warehouse, hidden behind the trees, and it was a large warehouse with four staff already, dried food stacked up, bottles, medical kit, spare beds, wheelchairs and strollers, crutches. ‘You seem to be able to get this kit and great prices…’ He waited.
‘We import, and we pay six months upfront.’
‘That would secure a good price, yes. Everyone else buys on credit.’
‘Your job here … is to be a good bean counter and to keep the costs down per resident, as well as the residents happy and engaged and … not sat around moping.’
‘We have counsellors lined up already,’ he assured me. ‘And those that go quiet and introverted will be offered more help. But from what I gather … they currently all live alone, or in hospital wards with no fucking stimulation whatsoever.’
I nodded at him. ‘They sit and stare at the walls and … die slowly. But do me a favour and have a think about a few more covered walkways for when it rains, and it does rain a lot.’
He nodded back at me. ‘Don’t need sick people getting a cold on top of AIDS.’
‘Why apply for the position?’ I posed.
‘It was the right local fit, good money, and … my cousin died of AIDS. He was an oil worker, shagged the local black ladies in a few bad places, but I still miss him.’
‘Men like him brought it back here.’
‘They did, yes, in the 1980s, wives and girlfriends infected. I nursed him for a while, then he killed himself; he was not the type to die slowly.’
He showed me the residents’ large canteen and then the staff canteen and shower area, the special hand-wash stations, the hazmat suits to be used on those residents manifesting strange exotic diseases.
‘What’s the capacity at the moment?’ I asked him.
‘The brown brick buildings hold the most residents, and there are four, two hidden further back, and the houses hold at least six people but in comfort – those people being not so sick.
‘The more-sick residents would be close to the wards, those capable of walking can live near the lake, have pets. As it stands we can house five hundred and twenty, but there are a few rooms where we could easily get two beds in.
‘And we just started work at the top end, more apartment blocks, three floors, twenty apartments on each floor, two or three residents per apartment, kitchen inside. That will take us to over six hundred.’
‘I guess they don’t move around much?’
‘In good weather they can walk and chat, but most are … out of breath easily, shall we say. If they can jog around the lake they don’t come here.’
‘No, they can live in the community,’ I agreed. ‘But try and think up a few activities for those that can appreciate those activities, a café near the lake but enclosed and warm, a pet centre, see what you come up with.’
‘I have a few ideas already, they won’t be bored, but … most have down days and do little and are … not capable of doing much.’
‘And the lab?’
‘There’ll be a group of huts brought in by crane, temporary but working, because the labs will take four months at least. And the lab staff will work in Nottingham University Hospital as well.’
Doc Lepus re-joined us after chatting with many of the staff and builders here, his ideas handed to people, and we headed back to our Leicester offices.
Rolf called, to say that my two video models had signed to say that they had no objections, and they had also signed to the agency for modelling work.
The master DVD copy in English would now go to The Sun newspaper to plug and distribute, as well as our Mexican outlet – to plug it in the States.
The foreign language versions would take a few days and they would need to be checked carefully, before being sent to the distributors. The German language DVD would be first.
Sat at my desk, Lucas informed me that half a million Traffic Jam devices were on their way, but that an upgraded version would be released soon, and so in the future we would buy the new variants instead.
He also had a statistics and data guy on the way from Sweden, a year’s contract to start, the man’s family keen to move away from Swedish winters.
In with Martin and the Traffic Jam team, they informed me about a push to get more rural drivers reporting accidents, drivers from small courier agencies now being recruited. DHL and BluePost were already on board, and those companies delivered to most parts of Britain, so that would help us – to help them.
I was then surprised to find out that all British police officers who were not sat behind a desk were being encouraged to sign up as licensed accident reporters, and that most traffic cops were already signed up.
Martin explained, ‘Why wouldn’t they want to report an accident? It makes their lives easier when people avoid the snarl-up!
‘We’re also thinking about the camera operators, because around London there are a bunch of cameras on roads to report accidents to the police, so they should make the report to us as well.’
‘Damn right,’ I agreed. ‘But we could put cameras where we have the speed sensors as well, our own operators. Suggest that to the police and the government, and let’s cost that up.
‘And the way it’s going with cameras, ten years from now most of our reports will come from those cameras, or be confirmed by those cameras.’
