Foskins stared moodily into his glass. Mustn’t stay here too long, I suppose, he thought tohimself .
Wouldn’t do to have any of his staff pop in from across the road and catch him drinking by himself.
Wouldn’t look good, especially just now.
He wondered about the young teacher,Probably living with a girl - didn’t look queer. Sure of himself, self-contained. Young. Might be useful in this exercise, though, Not essential of course, but at least the teacher would learn just how difficult it was to organise a project like this. The experience would do him a lot of good - only wish more people had some idea of the difficulties involved, then perhaps they wouldn’t be so ready to cry for blood at the first crisis. They’ll soon see I’m not ready for the shelf just yet,
He ordered another drink - just a quick one, he told himself - and returned to his seat.
Funny how things turn out, he brooded. Always having to prove yourself to others. To some it comes easy, they’re born with the gift, but for the others it requires constant, hard work, not relaxing for a minute, never revealing your weakness to those who’d be only too pleased to turn it to their own advantage. That’s how it’s always been with me.
Work, leadership - they’ve never come easily. Always the struggle a well-guarded secret. If only they knew of the night hours spent in sheer slog, sheer tedious grind, to keep up with the work output. Not just keep up, but to be ahead of.
But Rosemary had found out. She had to of course – she was my wife. Any other woman would have offered consolation, but not Rosemary. She grew bored with the nights spent plodding through paperwork. And when she discovered that prowess in bed was also a task that didn’t come naturally to me - well, the disillusionment was too great. If we’d had children I suppose she’d have had something to occupy her, but she even blamed me for that. Nevertheless, it lasted for fifteen years so she must have felt some love for me. Even though I knew she was having the odd affair, it didn’t really matter as long as she was discreet Even her jibes in front of friends, and. colleagues, I could have survived by ridiculing her in return in that false-hearty way.
But when her affairs became much more frequent and much less discreet - and worst of all, much less discriminating, then it had to be brought to an end. But she jumped the gun by ending it first, walking out,running off with a bloody travel agent! A travel agent! Did my best to hush things up, but word always gets around, so there was nothing left but to work even harder, to become more successful, anything to cover the shame of being left high and dry by an unfaithful wife. And the double-shame of having been cuckolded by her and a damn travel agent! How could you retain your dimity after that? But I managed it, worked myself up into this position. Yes, there was the affair of the rats that had done some damage to my esteem, but my superiors wouldn’t let me go, would they? No they know my true worth.
Public be damned. And when this little episode is over, they’ll all acknowledge my worth. The fact of the matter is, the more power you have, the easier it is to find solutions to any problems. You merely surround yourself with the right people, the right brains - they come up with the answers and you take the glory. The hard part was to gain that position of authority, but once you had it, the rest was easy. I’ll just have one more drink and then perhaps I’ll go along to the club, tell the boys all is going well, drop a few hints about our idea, not too much, in case it doesn’t work, but enough to let them know old Foskins has done it again.
Feel better now, no point in going home to an empty house just yet. Theboys’ll be pleased to see me, I should think.
He drained his glass and walked out into the still bright sunshine.
Harris reported at eight-thirty every morning to the daily Town Hall meetings. He worked out with Foskins and the Boroughsurveyors ten key locations that they considered to be likely rat-infested spots.
By the end of the week, the bio-chemists had come up with the correct virus.
They laughed at the teacher’s admiration for their speed.
‘That wasn’t the problem,’ they told him. ‘You see, we’ve had the virus itself for many years. In fact, we inherited it from the Germans after the war. They’d been working on a way of killing off all our livestock by infection without harming the population and they had actually come up with the answer. Fortunately, for us, the war ended before they had time to use it and it’s been a well-kept secret, along with a few other nasty little items, ever since. The hard part - and this has taken the time - was to find an antidote to contain it. We don’t relish the idea of wiping out all animal life in the country. Well, we’ve found the antitoxin and it will be a simple matter to introduce it into our animals, either by injection or mixing it with their food or water. It’s already being produced in bulk, and, just as a safeguard, we’re working on another serum in case the first fails. As a safeguard, we must stress. We see absolutely no reason for the first to let us down.’
Foskins congratulated them on then’ fine work and they set a time to put the plan into action.
‘Very well, gentlemen,’ concluded the minister. ‘On Tuesday morning, at six, we’ll plant the first infected puppies.
We’ll go on to nine other locations throughout the morning, all key points, and leave the unfortunate but expendable animals to their fate. Any questions?’
‘Yes,’ said Harris, raising his hand but quickly dropping it realising he was emulating his absent pupils.
‘What happens, when we’re planting the pups, if we become the victims of the rats?’
‘Everyone is to wear protective clothing, Mr Harris. It’s standard procedure on any operation like this. I think you’ll find the suits adequate even if uncomfortable.’ Foskins looked around at the faces. ‘Any more questions?’
‘Yes,’ said Harris.
‘Mr Harris?’
‘What if it doesn’t work.’
‘If what doesn’t work?’
‘The idea.’
‘Then God help us, Mr Harris.~
The grey dawn cast a mist over the old canal. Not even a bird disturbed the chill morning silence. The dirty waters stirred occasionally in the slight dawn breeze, sending small ripples lapping lazily at the stone sides of the man-made river.
The silence was broken by a tiny yelp. Along the bank came five men looking like visitors from another planet.
They were covered from head to foot in a heavy, plastic like material and wearing helmets with large glass visors. Two of the men carried a large basket. The lid bounced now and again as if the occupants of the container were striving to get free. One of the men motioned towards a spot by the side of the canal and the basket was placed on the ground, ‘This should do for the first lot,’ said Harris, sweating inside his heavy suit. He lifted the glass visor so the others could hear him more clearly.
‘This is where we saw the rats last time. They were swimming along the canal up to this point. Then they climbed out and disappeared through that hole over there.’ He pointed towards the other bank.
The basket was opened and three small dogs were lifted out. Harris fondled one of them affectionately.
Poor little bleeder, he thought.
The young researcher, introduced to the teacher after their first meeting at the Town Hall as Stephen Howard, lifted his visor and wiped his brow with a gloved hand. ‘Well, let’s chain two down and let the other wander,’ he said. ‘That way, the rats are bound to get them.’
Harris watched as a metal stake was driven into the hard path that ran alongside the muddy canal and two of the pups were chained to it.