The discovery of the Malevolence had not been the bottom of the rabbit hole after all. The latest revelations, furnished by that degenerate Dosogne, trumped everything else.
Oh for the days of worrying about recessions! Ironically those days were probably now over, regardless of what happened next. Updated reports on the London ash debris continued to upgrade the potential financial rewards. Even if he were to be forced into enabling Dosogne’s insanely ambitious industrial projects – the funds, incredibly, would be available. Moreover, any political resistance generated by this project could, according to Dosogne, be neutered very effectively by the same alien technology that the original aliens, the Sponsors, had used to entrench their own power over humanity.
Dosogne had talked of a tremendous increase in the PM’s personal political power. He’d been keenly aware of that himself throughout this bizarre week as he continued to slice through all the usual red tape. But Dosogne was talking about extending that power internationally! At least in the context of forcing through this extraordinary project. Basically he’d be instructing the leaders of the world’s most advanced industrial nations to create black budget operations each as large as the Manhattan Project.
If all that weren’t daunting enough there were also the consequences of not doing anything! The PM did not fully understand the science but the gist was clear enough: do nothing and humanity degenerates. And damned quickly! The PM shuddered…
But what of the Malevolence, the Gang of Four? Nothing, the PM realized, was trivial or irrelevant in this madhouse! Everything tied in together and that bloody alien fungus may well be key. For starters, the Gang of Four were urging “contact” with the entity, hinting that cooperation here would be very expedient. Furthermore, maybe contact had been established already. Dosogne, or whatever gave him instruction, could actually be the Malevolence!
And as for the Gang of Four–!
The PM’s intercom buzzed.
‘Yes?’
‘Prime Minister, Sir Neville Stonehatch and Mrs. Collier are waiting.’
‘Send them through straight away, please. Thank you.’
Sir Neville and his deputy entered the PM’s office and took their usual seats.
‘So, anything happen at Bermondsey last night?’ asked the PM.
‘No, Prime Minister,’ replied Sir Neville, ‘our surveillance equipment remained fully functional throughout the night but our operators reported nothing unusual and no sightings of any of the Gang of Four. Also, all CCTV covering the capital has been functioning properly since yesterday afternoon.’
‘Okay, to be expected, I suppose, and what about the St James’s Park investigations?’ the PM enquired.
‘We have cordoned off the section of the park adjacent to Downing Street and we continue to take samples from the site for analysis, but initial feedback from Porton Down suggests that the material is decomposing so rapidly that no useful data is expected to be recovered from it, sir. Certainly no intact DNA has yet to be isolated, nor anything like it. In fact there are no biological markers that can be absolutely confirmed as non-terrestrial.’
‘Hmm, that’s interesting. Obviously it does not wish to be analyzed,’ replied the PM. He then turned to Mrs. Collier: ‘And the homeless guy who claimed to have seen the spider? What did he have to say to you, Mrs. Collier?’
‘Good morning, Prime Minister,’ replied Mrs. Collier, ‘Yes, one Marcus McManus, of no fixed abode, provided us with a most interesting statement: He confirmed seeing a large spider, describing it as: “the size of a chimpanzee”.’
‘A chimpanzee?’
‘Apparently that’s what he thought it was initially, before it, and I quote: “resolved itself into a spider before my eyes”. He also claims that the woman described it as a “machine”.’
‘So he spoke to the woman!’
‘Yes, sir, he also claims she assaulted him several times in unprovoked attacks.’
‘What!? Do the other tramps confirm this?’
‘They confirm that McManus was slapped forcefully several times but they insist it was his own fault because he became hysterical for no reason. I should add, sir, that only McManus claims to have seen the spider. The others just recall seeing Tebb, the woman and the cat.’
‘I see,’ remarked the PM, ‘what did they have to say about the cat?’
‘Just that it was fat.’
‘Yes, well I can see that from the Vauxhall Cross picture! So what was the substance of their conversation?’
‘That’s somewhat unclear, sir. According to McManus the woman was asking “daft” questions such as what part of the park do they all dislike. They were directed to the corner that now concerns us and the Gang of Four promptly departed to that section of the park. The tramps continued to observe them milling about there for a several minutes before departing in a large red car along Birdcage Walk.
‘What make of car?’ asked the PM.
‘Sir Neville?’ prompted Mrs. Collier, looking over at her boss.
‘We believe it’s a Bentley, sir,’ replied Sir Neville, ‘we have a few low resolution images from the commander’s headcam as the vehicle sped along Birdcage Walk. We can barely confirm the car’s make, and nothing about its occupants.’
The Prime Minister leaned back in his chair. ‘Even so, if they do drive a red Bentley, we can find them!’
‘Yes, sir,’ replied Sir Neville. ‘We are prioritizing that. However all the red Bentleys registered in London check out. This could be an unregistered car or it’s come in from somewhere else.’
‘Do we have any tracking, or perhaps pattern recognition technology? Something that could tell us where all the red Bentleys are located at any given time?’
Mrs. Collier took a deep intake of breath: ‘Unfortunately we can’t guarantee that our car has a tracking device on board, and as for the pattern recognition technology, that’s not really feasible. But if we notify the police then I’m sure–’
‘But we don’t really want to be doing that, do we? The police could either be sent chasing their tails or they could blow this thing wide open. We need to find the Bentley!’
‘Yes, sir.’
The PM continued to listen as his security staff concluded their briefings. For once it all seemed rather low-key. There were some interesting developments but he was feeling distracted. At 10am he’d be getting another “call” from Dosogne. It was galling but right now Alan Dosogne was the only show in town.
***