Ever Young

By David Sallon

Jack Branson is an aspiring journalist for a large publishing company. He is assigned to report on a government-supported medical scheme called Ever Young, a gene-editing procedure that promises to eliminate all genetic frailties and negative medical conditions. Those who commit to the scheme will be guaranteed good health until the age of 95, whereupon they would submit to the government’s terms of termination. Magnum, a world-famous German computer company, has taken control of the Ever Young scheme, and their deep pockets allow them control of the government.

But Jack discovers Magnum’s deeply concerning wartime history. The corruption and violence that ensue when these eugenicists are entrusted with data of a now intimately networked world threaten the entire global order. Governments stand and fall by their capricious nature. Who dares to confront the truth?

Although Ever Young is fictional it is loosely based on the true actions of a major multinational technology corporation who benefitted significantly from their involvement in the Holocaust.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Oct 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9781398499836

David Sallon

David Sallon was born in 1938, and has spent the last fifty years inventing, manufacturing, and selling disposables to a global retail, industrial and medical world. Many of these items are now everyday essentials. His experiences have allowed him to negotiate with multinationals and espouse national trends. His eight children have followed in his tracks, often fighting the establishment with new ideas which benefit mankind. Ever Young has taken four years to write, and exposes the weaknesses of politicians who, tempted to benefit from their given responsibilities, get drawn into a web of criminal activity with disastrous results. Politics and medicine do in reality combine in a delicate cocktail that must be tempered by legislation and exposed by the press. But who should be in control? Without oversight of a non-governmental public health brains trust, there could be unforeseen consequences, when the fiction of Ever Young becomes fact. Previously published: Pschatts, 2012

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About the Author

David Sallon was born in 1938, and has spent the last fifty years inventing, manufacturing, and selling disposables to a global retail, industrial and medical world. Many of these items are now everyday essentials. His experiences have allowed him to negotiate with multinationals and espouse national trends. His eight children have followed in his tracks, often fighting the establishment with new ideas which benefit mankind.

Ever Young has taken four years to write, and exposes the weaknesses of politicians who, tempted to benefit from their given responsibilities, get drawn into a web of criminal activity with disastrous results. Politics and medicine do in reality combine in a delicate cocktail that must be tempered by legislation and exposed by the press. But who should be in control? Without oversight of a non-governmental public health brains trust, there could be unforeseen consequences, when the fiction of Ever Young becomes fact.

Previously published: Pschatts, 2012

Dedication

This book would not have been written without the patience and dedication of my darling wife, Susan, who has added and subtracted mountains of commas, spaces and spellings. At one time, I began to believe that I had a hidden secret morse-coded story. I do hope that you enjoy reading it but at least it is now readable. My sincerest thanks to Stephen Lentin who carefully read and commented on the proof, my grandson Noah Lewis and son Jeremy, for their invaluable contributions in the editing stages of this novel.

Acknowledgement

This book is partly inspired by reflections on the continuing success of IBM despite their wartime activities.

IBM began operations in 1911 in the US. During the 1930s a subsidiary of IBM named Deutsche Hollerith Maschinen became the close collaborators of the German government, and by 1939 the company had achieved a monopoly on punch-cards and data-processing in Germany. Their capacities in large-scale data processing aided the war effort and were integral to the execution of the Nazis’ murderous domestic policies.

Their activities included the provision of computing equipment and other hardware to the Nazi government, the issuance of punch-cards for government workers and concentration-camp detainees, and the compilation of lists of dissidents and Jewish, gay and disabled people, to be murdered.

IBM were not alone in their collaboration. Many other companies surviving today both as subsidiaries and under their original names worked to enable the Nazis’ programme of violence.

Copyright Information ©

David Sallon 2023

The right of David Sallon to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398499829 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398499836 (ePub e-book)

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First Published 2023

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Chapter 1

Important Government Announcement

FOR THE ATTENTION OF YOUNG MEN AND WOMEN BETWEEN TWENTY-TWO AND THIRTY YEARS OLD.

Jack Branson stood in front of the electron board pondering how this claim could be made. It wasn’t as if it was placed on the usual advertisement boards sprinkled along sidewalks pushing the latest cosmetics, foods or movies: the Electron board was reserved only for government announcements and for any new laws initiated by the local or national councils.

Jack was thirty-two years old and six feet tall. He was in perfect health and proud of his athletic body upon which he worked meticulously every day. So, why thirty? he muttered to himself. In any event, it would be interesting to see what this is all about, And since his medical centre was only a few blocks away, he decided to make a quick stop on his way to work.

The Autoplug Medical Centre was divided into four departments, each with their distinctive colours. The Green section, for senior citizens, occupied the largest area. These elderly patients would find a cubicle in which to sit.

Placing both hands onto the electronic plate of the Autoplug, a multitude of tiny needles would identify them and verify their medical history. Upon the screen in front of them a message asked that they wait patiently to see a named doctor, who would have already observed their temperature, pulse and an analysis of their current medical condition and all information relevant to the patient’s history.

Accident and Emergency, coloured red, was an open area containing electronic frosted plastic sliding doors with large emergency buttons placed on the sides offering immediate nursing. This section was expanded or contracted according to the season. The vacation time was invariably the busiest for overactive children and sports injuries.

The InfeC department specialised in contagious diseases including the flu, and was coloured black. This area was enclosed at the far end of the centre and was fed a continuous stream of Antiviral Dust blowing through giant aluminium pipes. Once again, the patient would sit in their own cube awaiting their doctor or nurse according to their condition.

And finally, the S.R. Autoplug – for general and minor ‘self-repair’ ailments – coloured yellow. This was the most popular of all the departments, and considered a substantial benefit, not only to the patient but also to the NHS. Jack meandered towards a yellow pod, sat on the plastic seat in front of the screen closed the curtain, placed both hands on the Autoplug and waited for ten seconds. His name emerged and asked him to confirm that a payment of five pounds could be taken from his registered bank account. He immediately pressed a button to confirm. It was still quite early and the centre was relatively empty. He had often visited the centre just to assure himself of his physical condition, but this time he wanted an understanding in greater detail of what he had read on the Electron.

A holographic image of an attractive young woman appeared from the screen in front of him. His credit card was already recorded and automatically placed a minimum of fifteen minutes. He had seen her before and according to a computer evaluation of his present disposition, her image was selected just in order to create in him a feeling of wellbeing. He could see that she had placed various papers in front of her which she casually glanced at, her blond hair slipping over her eyes as she discretely brushed it back, her unbuttoned white jacket suggested a position of friendly authority. A badge with the name ‘Dr Jenkins’ served to furnish a proper identity for her.

She was wearing heavily framed glasses, which she slowly removed.

Although he had rarely found it necessary to visit the Autoplug, he was in awe of the software that enabled his life records to be so concise and obviously passed from one medical division to the other. Even childhood illnesses and university quirks that he had discussed with the local doctor. It occurred to him that other facts that may be irrelevant to his current medical condition would be included in the files, for the government had by one means or another accumulated every aspect of his life from salary, education, any investments that he might make and even his political leanings, even his DNA, now all available to him to draw upon from the apps which would analyse and advise him if he so required. But these were fanciful thoughts and since he had nothing to hide anyway, he dismissed them as irrelevant. It had even acquired his parents’ physical and financial background in order to validate any advice that would enable it to give a cohesive response to any questions that would be asked.

Good morning, Jack, thank you for popping in, but I can see from your hands and the notations here that you appear to be in perfect health, so I shall assume that you have something else that you’d like to ask.

Hello, Doctor, replied Jack, always pleased that such an attractive ‘Doctor’ had been computerised from his hand check. I was particularly interested to read about the Magnum Health plan; can you expand a little on this project?

Of course, Jack, smiled the Doctor, I assume that you mean The Ever Young project, but you must know that you would not be eligible for the scheme as you’re not within the age bracket at this time.

Nevertheless, it would be interesting to know some details.

Certainly, she replied. The Magnum Health plan selected this particular age variance, since detailed medical studies have proven that between twenty-two and thirty the brain and body begin to reach their zenith, and within this health band we can now stabilise both the mental and physical metabolism by injecting a microchip into the brain that anticipates any pathogens or potential imperfections before they materialise. After thirty years, these pathogens will have already established themselves within even the fittest bodies. She spoke slowly and with a degree of intimacy, and Jack experienced and inexplicable feeling of sexuality towards her as she softened her tone. You may not be aware of the genetic influences that you are carrying until you are in your forties or even fifties, Jack, but by evaluating your biological history Jack and redirecting any possible future anomalies that you have inherited we can now prove that perfect health can be maintained until one is ninety-five years old. What’s more, we would be able to keep a close monitor on each individual in the event that something untoward should occur.

But surely there must be a benefit to those who are as fit as I am but are just over the set limit, he enquired.

I am afraid not Jack, the Ever Young project is not only evaluated by ones physical condition, it is simply a matter of how their DNA establishes itself within their metabolism, and at this time we cannot bypass its own time clock which is between twenty-two and thirty years old. But you will have the benefit of your good health as long as you continue to look after yourself, and of course you can visit us as often as you like, she smiled.

Jack could see little benefit in pursuing the subject further and was about to close the conversation with his computerised adviser when it occurred to him that if the ‘guarantee’ was to ninety-five years old, what would stop this healthy individual living on to any age.

May I ask one final question Doctor?

Of course, she replied, almost seductively. You still have seven minutes.

If your chosen ones reach ninety-five in perfect health, do they continue with or without the guarantee?

That is an excellent question, Jack. First, I would ask you how many ninety-five year-olds do you know that are in perfect health, or even those in their eighties? The likelihood is that they will struggle with all sorts of difficulties by this time. And most of those that reach the magical age of ninety-five are invariably not even aware of who they are. There are of course exceptions but we are considering the average population…If we can bypass all this suffering and humiliation of old age and reach the age of ninety-five in perfect health, are we not giving them a wonderful gift of living life rather than just existing it? The image of her face became larger as she stared into the screen.

But you haven’t answered my question Doctor, what happens after ninety-five?

Quite simple, she smiled. The Magnum Health plan lease will come to an end and the recipient will have an opportunity to say farewell to their friends and family totally compos mentis before they pass on.

You mean you would kill them, replied Jack now quite shocked.

No, no Jack, please reconsider your words before you make an impulsive remark such as that, I can tell by your hands that you are shocked, but you know Jack that nearly twenty percent of your salary is being poured into the health of this country and over half of that maintains the geriatrics in our country alone. Can you appreciate how much can be saved by giving back the elderly their health during these years, and what can be done with these billions of savings, plus the contribution of these fully able senior citizens. This is a win-win scheme but it needs digesting. We must learn to value healthy living more and, even more so, healthy dying. The Ever Young Magnum scheme must be its spear head especially aligned to the Autoplug, every individual that enrols will be monitored throughout their lives. Nevertheless, I have no doubt that you will be amongst those few that will beat the system, and you know Jack that we will support you to do it.

She now looked at him with such compassion that he found himself thanking her for her apparent affection. But the Doctor was after all a simulated and a brilliant facsimile of what was committed to be his mentor.

He left the centre still in shock. The word KILL kept interfering with his logic, and it took a strong coffee for him to settle down before entering his office.

Jack had become an urbanite. He had taken his degrees in History and English at Birmingham University, and gradually emerged into the business world as a journalist. He was now a lead writer with ‘The Sporty’, a nationally published magazine appealing to the younger sports enthusiasts and he had become a recognised personality. His enthusiasm for the games and exercise equipment had made him popular with a number of leading manufacturers who would readily give him equipment ‘to test’ and which he found a use for in his trendy apartment in a salubrious block in Chelsea. His friends were many but most of them were passing ships in the night. During the last two years he discovered in himself a need to be with a more permanent partner than the many young women he met through his work and in bars, and whilst he attempted to retain the exuberance of his student days, he was aware that he was no longer classified as a youngster by his work colleagues and that he was his age, and psychologically beginning to cloak himself accordingly.

The meeting today had stunned him into the realisation that the system was in fact moving him into another age group.

It was now Friday and since Jack was relatively up to date with his submissions he decided to visit his parents. It was easy when they had lived in Islington, but after his father retired some 3 years previous, they sold their house and purchased a delightful cottage in Cornwall which was as far away from London as they could get. His dad was now 60 years old and had enjoyed a senior position with a major finance house in the city. However, it became rapidly clear during the last three years that his style of business was being overtaken by modern technology. Many of his old contacts were diminishing and his style of meeting clients in restaurants and offices was becoming defunct. Communication by emails, face books and a myriad of other electronic bric-a-brac and arm’s length negotiations were replacing the old pals act, and the larger deals were being negotiated by a younger and hungrier generation. Golf was being replaced with Squash, Theatre or Opera with football teams. He was becoming a Dinosaur. His Retirement would have been a forced resignation had he not accepted the inevitable with a degree of equanimity.

The journey from London to Lands’ End was long and arduous, he had thought of flying, but he would then have had to rent a car from the local airport which would still give him a further two hours of driving. There was no easy way to get to Lands’ End or near it. After driving for six hours, he at last saw a sign to Falmouth. It would be another half an hour before he would reach Helston, and now exhausted, he decided to stop at an inn to freshen up, have a quick bite and a coffee. As he appeared to be in such a remote part of the country it occurred to Jack that he might be their only customer, but as he walked through the pub door he was astonished to find a packed room, what was even more surprising was that they were mostly young men and women in their early twenties, smartly dressed as if to a party. They had clearly been enjoying each other’s company for some time and a number were so inebriated that they were struggling to stand. A pretty young lady approached Jack with a drunken smile.

I haven’t seen you before—where you from? she giggled.

Before Jack could reply, her partner who was equally inebriated, put his arm around Jack. What yer having? Give this man a pint! he spluttered, and a pint glass was thrust at Jack, who had no option but to accept it. You can wish me a happy birthday too, he shouted, waving his jug in front of him. The pint now in hand, he was immediately pulled into the throng. He needed something to eat, but there was little opportunity to order food; he gave his name to whoever asked and another pint was ordered; he tried to excuse himself to phone his parents but, yet again, he was waylaid; he managed to buy a bag of crisps, but it was becoming difficult to release himself and eventually resigned himself to his newfound friends, buying an occasional round and allowing their reciprocation.

Another two hours passed before the group began to dissipate, and by this time, Jack was aware that he was in no fit state to drive. At last, he made a call.

The telephone was answered by his mother.

Darling, we were so worried about you! Where are you? He could hear his father in the background.

Sorry Mum, I’ve been delayed, was all he could find to say. I’ll be with you in about an hour.

There were still a few of the party left and his mother caught the gabble of them. Where are you? she asked.

I’m just outside Falmouth but had to stop for a break. Be with you both soon. He said his farewells and hung up, then went into the men’s room to splash his face. He had had too much to drink and not enough food, and was aware that he was well over the limit. Jack whispered to himself, I’d better drive carefully if I don’t want to get caught; that would be the last thing I need, and walked out into the night air.

The last twenty miles of his journey sapped every ounce of energy from him. He had wiggled off the road and managed to correct his steering only after grazing a tree. By the time he had arrived at his parents’ cottage, he could only stagger to the door. It was now midnight. He kissed his parents, found a settee to lie on, and, without any explanation, fell into a deep sleep.

Jack was awoken at 10.00 am the following morning. He had been lifted into the guest bedroom by his parents with some difficulty. They had removed his shoes but left him in his clothes. It was not the best way to have a reunion, and both Jack and his parents were embarrassed by each other’s presence that morning. His head was splitting and, as he gulped down a strong black coffee that was duly presented to him, he tried to explain the evening.

I didn’t even know who they were, he admitted, just a bunch of youngsters, just a bunch of youngsters, he repeated as he held his head.

You could have killed someone, driving in your condition, croaked his father, …and yourself!

The weekend was spent reminiscing about his childhood. Family photos of various holidays recalling their friends that had long ago passed away were rediscovered. But there was no future injected into their lives and Jack could see that they had, without being aware, gone to Cornwall to die. Not immediately, but in preparation. The cottage seemed to be as a large sarcophagus holding their memorabilia ad infinitum. There were no plans to visit him in London, see a show or even to work again, and they seemed quite content to live on memories of bygone years.

It rained continuously during the weekend, which kept them indoors. Jack’s Friday had made a deep impression upon him. His meeting at the Medical Centre had simply offered an education, but the pub incident emphasised how different his needs were from the young men and women that he had been with. He had once been just like them. He enjoyed their company but was now from another world, another generation, he had been there, done that. It was history being repeated. It was as if, taken as a trilogy of events, a strange new slant on his life had underlined his mortality. Their futures would soon be their past too he thought in his morning after state of mind.

The following week was to change his life.

Chapter 2

Miriam Bravotti finished her day with some relief and upon arriving home threw off her shoes and went into the kitchen to make herself a fruit juice. It had been a long day, she sat in her favourite swivel chair, her hand went casually to her memo pad to see what messages she might have received. There were a few cold sales calls, and a message from her brother. She was now the grand old age of twenty-eight, and enjoyed simply being, and being herself, she now lived in a delightful apartment that was bought for her by her brothers who had a number of Italian restaurants throughout London. Her grandparents had come from Italy from peasant beginnings to London after the war. After some time, working twelve hours a day they managed to save enough to open their first ice cream parlour in the Edgware Road in London. For them, it was a tremendous adventure but a great gamble, every penny they had went into the business. But with the flamboyance of Southern Italy, even when it snowed they found a way of enticing their customers to spend a little money. They called their first shop ‘Sunshine’ and projected its warmth with Italian hospitality to anyone who entered. They had three children but it was Frank their second son and Miriam’s father and his young wife who carried the business forward and built up a chain of Sunshine Coffee Shops across the country. As the years passed the business was passed onto Miriam’s three brothers and sister who expanded the business into restaurants. The oldest was Maria, who had three children but had little interest in the business. Miriam was the baby of the family and her relationship with them was that of uncles and aunts. She had more in common with their children.

Her parents had now retired due to Frank’s health but the boys ensured that they were both kept up to date with the day to day affairs of their ‘Papa and Mamma’s baby.’ Miriam loved her parents for what they were, for she had never really known them when they were in full flight and had little knowledge of the joys and challenges that they or her grandparents must have experienced over the years. She allowed herself to imagine that her life would always be as secure as it was now, and found little reason to enquire any more deeply of their trial and tribulations other than through light conversation.

She had taken full advantage of a good education which included a Masters in Maths allowing her to add MSc. to her name. A further two years committed her to acquire PhD on the evolution of computers. Her family nicknamed her ‘The little genius’, which she thought very amusing as none of her siblings went through the more rigorous educational system. During the holidays, she would occasionally help out in the restaurants which was fun, but had no interest of following her brothers into the business.

She at last left university equipped with as much academia as she felt was necessary, it was time to get a job that would satisfy her and allow her to find a routine but not lose sight of her dedicated subject. One morning whilst having a coffee she noticed and advert in the Times for postgraduates to work with the Spoken Arrow Group. The position advertised required relatively low qualifications and certainly did not justify her degrees, but since she had never had any job of consequence it seemed an opportunity to dip in at the shallow end of employment and find a routine. She replied to a box number and in her naivety she mentioned her qualifications including her Masters and a PhD on the subject of computers at Oxford University. She was rather surprised to receive by return email, a polite rejection for the position applied for but suggesting an interview to discuss other possibilities.

Miriam was delighted, for she was at last faced with a reality of presenting herself to a potential employer, and free of inhibition she would have been happy to accept even a menial position and would at last be able to boast to her parents that she had a job. She replied immediately by email and was given an appointment for the following week with Mr Theodore Jacobs the UK Group General Manager of Sales. Knowing the size of the company with branches throughout the UK she was rather surprised to have a response from one so high in status. Spoken Arrow was considered to be the world leader in computers and known internationally for their research. In fact, Miriam had noted their successes in her studies and felt that it would be interesting to see them in operation at the ‘coal face’ working incognito. The day before her interview she decided to pop into the Regent St branch, which was buzzing. She was curious to see how the sales staff presented themselves. Feigning ignorance she allowed herself to be given a sales pitch for one of their latest computers, however the young salesgirl knew very little and passed her over to a more senior salesperson. It was surprising how little he knew of the machine’s potential but decided to allow them both to babble on for a while. Nevertheless she took their literature and read up on its possibilities ready for her meeting the following day.

She pondered on whether she should dress more formally for the interview after all it would probably be a sales position on the shop floor but decided to present herself in the best light. She had often found her good looks a double-edged sword, just under 5ft 9" and slim with a skin tone that suggested a Mediterranean background, she found serious conversation with men often leaned towards flirtation and women rather more protective than she cared for, nevertheless this was to be a formal interview and so met the challenge with a positive approach. The appointment was to be at the Regent St branch but announcing her name at the reception she was immediately whisked up to the 4th floor.

Theodore Jacobs had in front of him a thick bound thesis titled The Evolution and Future Progression of the Computer and its Global Reliance. Immediately Miriam entered she recognised her work and was taken aback. He noticed her reaction and smiled.

Theodore was in his late thirties, wearing a tee shirt and jeans. You should not be surprised, Miriam, that I purloined your work. It’s not often I have an opportunity to interview a professor. Especially a young one. I was of course wondering why you should even respond to our student advertisement?

Well, you should know that I have never actually worked for anyone other than my own family, who have restaurants, so it seemed to me rather unfair to any future employers if I were to impose myself until I found a routine. I’m quite happy, Mr Jacobs, for anything within your organisation. Believe me. I’m not proud.

Firstly, if anything, it is I who should address you formally, but I’m Theo to everyone here, which I hope might include you, Miriam. We have a position within this particular branch, which is the shop window of our four hundred stores here in the UK to oversee our overseers. The front line of our salespeople are students with a certain nous, they are guided by supervisors, who in turn look towards a more sophisticated explanation of how things work, and what we could stretch our machines to really do. Most of the computers we sell are far more sophisticated than are initially required, and only by showing a captive buyer their full potential can we move forward with them and not leave them behind. The philosophy of Spoken Arrow is not simply to fill a need. We have to create a need and persuade the public’s deeper understanding of this amazing invention. Our brain is desperately underused, and the computer is our key to its door.

I seem to recall writing something like that, she mused. You have obviously been doing your homework, Theo. What and how might you propose to use me? I shall place myself at your disposal.

They spoke of many things and their minds locked onto a myriad of subjects. She saw a photo of his wife and child, he noted that she had no rings, nothing was said but understood and both recognized and protected their positions.

***

Miriam soon settled into the position of an oracle and mentor to department heads, she acquired an assistant and swiftly became an integral part of the Spoken Arrow’s training essentials. She developed a free and easy style to discover a myriad of opportunities that the computers were capable of and translated them into the pragmatics of everyday lives. She had now been with the company for two years, and enjoyed a degree of financial independence that gave her great pleasure.

Her apartment, although relatively small was designed with Italian flourish. Abstract and impressionist paintings and a few small sculptures were displayed amongst a well-stocked bookcase that took over an entire wall and brought the apartment to life. The large windows were dressed with floor to ceiling voile, emphasising her femininity. She had a few friends, both men and women, but was aloof around close relations.

Returning from work she switched on the TV and directed her remote to the news. What do these people think we are? she spoke out loud as she watched adverts seemingly targeting idiots, and was about to switch over to one of her favourite soaps when a government announcement caught her attention.

DO YOU WANT TO LIVE A LIFE WITHOUT FEAR OF ILLNESS? The voice was strong, positive, almost instructive. It reminded her of her father, and she listened to the ad which took rather longer than the usual thirty second spots. She was particularly taken with a GUARANTEE OF GOOD HEALTH UNTIL 95 YEARS OLD. IF YOU ARE BETWEEN 22 AND 30 YEARS OLD, WHY NOT POP INTO YOUR LOCAL HEALTH CENTRE FOR MORE INFORMATION. She froze the announcement, recorded it and transferred it over to her computer. Switching off the TV she heard it again.

It was a strange claim and had it not been a government announcement she would have seen it as yet another vacuous leader line, but such a comment from a bona fide source justified following up. She made herself a snack and decided to visit her local medical centre which was open till 9.00 pm and only a 15minute walk.

There were a number of elderly patients waiting at the green section queueing for a pod, but she went directly to the Autoplug and took a seat in an enclosure. Placing her hands on the Plate in front of her and pressed the interview button. Within seconds, her favourite doctor appeared and brought up a clock in the corner with fifteen minutes recorded and her account diminished by five pounds.

Her doctor appeared smiling. Hello, Miriam. I haven’t seen you for some time – I don’t have to ask you if you are well, but you do seem to be a little tired.

Miriam had visited the centre from time to time mostly for advice, and even occasionally to confess her indiscretions, she found it particularly therapeutic to discuss with her charming computerised doctor who was totally non-judgemental and seemed to have an endless knowledge of how she should direct her desires both sexual and pragmatic.

He appeared to be in his late thirties and bore a badge with the name Dr Prado. His Mediterranean manner and disposition gave her a feeling of her roots, which she greatly appreciated. It was better and less inhibiting than her visits to her church or even her flesh and blood doctor, and she spoke with her hologram as a friend, without inhibition, knowing that whatever she told him was solely between her and the machine.

Hello doctor, yes I’ve had a busy day but it’s good to see you looking so well. She knew that this was a pointless comment but it bonded her to him as a child would talk to her doll. I saw an advertisement on the TV this evening relating to Magnum Heath Plan, and I’m wondering if you could give me a little more information.

The Doctor smiled showing perfectly white even teeth almost florescent against a light suntan. It seems to me that you Miriam are an ideal candidate for this plan, but that is only my opinion and you need to consider what I tell you with an independent mind. First I should tell you that Ever Young is owned by Magnum as is the Autoplug so you need not have any fears of indiscretions being revealed. You probably know that only those between twenty-two and thirty are eligible, I am informing you of this knowing that you can be included, but any other person that you have a relationship with should realise that you would have the advantage on them should they not wish or would be unable to be included. He smiled as it was clear that he was referring a previous encounter that she had discussed in some detail and certainly more than she would have done to her priest.

I am free as a bird at the moment, doctor, but you make it sound very mysterious. I’m all ears! replied Miriam.

The doctor explained in detail the implications that related to the Ever Young Health Plan, with all its guarantees and assurances relating to unexpected problems such as broken bones etc. These would of course be incremental and priority treatment is given to those who joined the scheme. The program would ensure that you would be in perfect health until you were ninety-five years old, and at that point we would terminate the agreement.

This sounds wonderful, doctor, but what’s the catch, there must be something more otherwise you could just as well make it compulsory.

I haven’t finished yet, replied the doctor feigning a teacher’s annoyance. First of all let me tell you the benefits to the country, and I’ll show you a graph of the current costs and looking at the next 50 years of the bankrupting monies that the economy will have to find to maintain the elderly, it is therefore imperative for us to improve their health whilst they are alive, and the Ever Young plan have found it. We are not advocating that the elderly should live longer, what we are stating with Ever Young is that they will live a healthier and full life until ninety-five before they say farewell to their family and friends in perfect health. You can probably already see how your own family are slowly degenerating, I know this may sound cruel but we are, that is, all humans are, on a wheel of life which must come to an end at some time. We are now in an era that will allow us to control our lives and ultimately our deaths, and unless we take advantage of this amazing technology and temper it to our needs, current statistics show the demise of our world as we know it. I can also confirm that every time you speak with me your intelligence quota is re-evaluated, if that’s an added comfort. His charm at this point broke the tension that Miriam was feeling.

Wow, that is something to digest, said Miriam. I’m not sure how my priest would take this plan, but I am seriously going to consider it. Do you think I should speak with my parents?

Why not, they’re progressive thinkers and their thoughts would be a considerable help, so, why not!

Miriam thanked her doctor said good night and switched off.

Returning to her apartment she tapped in ‘Ever Young’ into her computer. She scrolled down to discover the finite details of how it could alter her life, and its possible consequences.

***

EVER YOUNG 351 CLINICS. What you can expect when receiving the Ever Young 351.

Under the authorisation of the Health Minister Mr Brendon Tann, Magnum has been offered the facility of all the NHS Teaching hospitals throughout the UK to allocate both a clinical space and operating time plus a six-bed ward to allow a one-night stay if required.

The operation itself will take no more than thirty-five minutes, but each patient will respond differently to the 351 chip installation which would be placed by injection into the hippocampus which is within the frontal portion of the skull. Most patients would be allowed home after the process. In practice, a trained general practitioner would be sufficiently competent to perform the task which would be given by injection. However it is suggested that your doctor recommends to you a neurologist if you have any questions before the procedure.

It is to be expected that the body will react to what is considered an alien element entering the system, it is likened to adjusting a radio program: the end result is much greater clarity but the program has to be adjusted to fit the wavelength. In fact, this will be concurrently controlled by the Magnum Empto Computer which stabilises and balances the body working with the unique wavelength of each individual.

The metabolism and DNA will be fully attuned to your new condition within 48 hours and will immediately begin to resist most of the ailments that you may have inherited from your forebears. There are no side effects other than positive ones.

By registering with the government program you will be given PRIVILEGED tax benefits thanks to anticipated government savings. You would also receive premium health service for your family and reduced insurance contributions. A Magnumite certification also makes better candidates for positions of responsibility.

We work under the auspices of Cambridge University and with the cooperation of three other universities: Edinburgh, University College London and Manchester. Each was charged with selecting 3,000 students between 22 and 23 years old to be given IQ tests prior to acquiring the Ever Young injection and subsequently two years after. At the outset of the test the average IQ of the 9,000 students was 107. Year 2, it was 110; and Year 3, 112. There was a significant improvement in ability to absorb knowledge as a result of Ever Young.

The Ever Young 351 project has been thoroughly tested and is perfectly safe. It will revitalise cells and banish all defective DNA accumulated from countless generations. You should never require medical treatment for inherited malfunctions and your life span will be assured until the age of ninety-five, in good health.

Ever Young and the Autoplug were conceived by Cambridge University and refined and patented by Magnum who are the foremost manufacturers of computers in the world. What better assurance can you have?

EVER YOUNG IS THE MOST PROGRESSIVE MEDICAL DEVELOPMENT EVER TO BE PRESENTED TO THE WORLD.

We wish you many healthy and happy years ahead. MLH – Magnum Loves Humanity

REGISTER TODAY. We anticipate a substantial demand. Expected waiting time 8 – 12 weeks from application.

***

What an interesting concept, she thought. It would be interesting to hear my parents take on it.

She had planned to meet with both her parents that week anyway, but as she was alone at this time it seemed a good idea to steal a supper with them. Her mother’s food would only be criticised by her family at the risk of death, and her traditional menus were treats that one only declined for fear of exploding. Miriam had a been living away from home long enough to appreciate anything that was offered.

Her Papa was out that evening and it was a great pleasure to have her mother’s full attention, and although the hair was now grey and she had gained rather more weight than might be healthy, she retained a sparkle in her eye and a joie de vivre that was contagious. They sat by the dining table, their hands entwined across its surface.

Mamma, I need your advice on an important matter, and before you start worrying, everything is good. Miriam smiled to see her mother relax. You may not have noticed the government notice recently advertised on the TV called ‘Ever Young’.

No, my darling, I haven’t. What is it?

It’s an offer that is directed at young adults only between twenty-two and thirty. It is a rather bizarre concept so I decided to check it out with my doctor at the medical centre.

What, you took advice from a computer doctor, it’s better that you came to me too, tell me what you want to know Miri.

It was warming to see her mother’s Italian ways even though she had been in the UK all of her life, and Miriam wondered if she would inherit them at a certain age. Maybe it was genetic, she thought. She described the scheme in detail, but leaving the conclusion open for her mother to pick up. For she knew that she would.

Perfect health at ninety-five, so what can be so bad at that, I could certainly get rid of my rheumatism and I’m only sixty-eight, proclaimed her Mamma. So, what’s the catch? Whatcha gonna do with a healthy ninety-five-year-old? Without this guarantee, they’d live forever on the health service I guess, she chuckled.

That is the nub of the whole plan Mamma, you’ve hit it on the head, proclaimed Miriam. In my doctor’s words, they would say goodbye to their friends and family with a smile on their faces.

And POOF – they would give themselves to heaven, her mother concluded. Listen to me, the idea of a man or a woman’s right to extend life seems very reasonable, but it’s only God that can take it away, I think that the whole concept is immoral, it’s worse than euthanasia. At least euthanasia you’re ill when you die. If you were to write to the pope he would say the same, the next thing will be to cook and eat the HEALTHY dead, she stood up and was now waving her arms. If the government said we could, would that be acceptable too? We have a choice on how to live Miri, and the way we do it will certainly reflect on the way and when we die, so it’s in our own hands, and we don’t need a chip in our brain to regulate us, it’s up to us.

You would be right Mamma if we did something about our lifestyles, but it’s blatantly obvious that our modern society is totally without any self-control or morals, in fact we need a government to tell us what we’re doing wrong, and history has not taught us anything other than technology, so what’s the alternative? her words were coming slower than her thoughts and she cogitated before continuing. If we were to believe that pills, operations and psychoanalysis will help us live longer and happier lives then why is it not working? I know why you have rheumatism, I know why Poppa has a weak heart, and I guess so do you, but I can’t see either of you doing exercises or changing your diets, and even knowing the effect on your lives you haven’t made any attempt to rectify or alter the actions that cause these things.

Her mother sat now with her hands in her lap contemplating Miriam’s response. She knew her mother too well to believe that she had won the argument on round one, and the second round would invariably commence once she had gathered her thoughts.

Do you want coffee? And without waiting for an answer poured two cups from the cafetiere and slid a small plate of biscuits over to Miriam. So clever, thought Miri, and so divisive. It was a way that her mother would hold onto the initiative – as she would change her tack the next round would commence.

You and I have spoken many times over the years on the meaning of life and our purpose here, but the subject can have no meaning unless its placed in context with our belief in an afterlife, and even though we have no understanding of what that really means since our little brains can’t begin to understand what happens after we die, and so the modern thinker might say, well if it’s not proven it doesn’t exist. But I for one am not so clever as to outwit nature. There are powers beyond our comprehension that even scientists of today acknowledge are beyond our understanding. We are born, we live and we die, that’s the pattern, but some of our greatest thinkers died in their thirties or forties, Mozart, Shakespeare. Alexander the Great was only twenty-eight when he died yet he had conquered half the known world. It’s a recognised fact that we are not as productive when we age, so why extend this non-productivity? It’s egotistical to imagine that we should give the world more just because we live longer. Have a biscuit Miri, before I eat them all.

Miriam smiled and kissed her Mamma. Here was a woman whose education was minimal and yet could offer profundities that could compare with Freud. Her arguments did not involve economics or population control, hers were on morality, spirituality and eternity which were difficult to dispute. There was little point in pursuing the subject with her at this stage unless her father was involved, for his opinion might influence, and only might alter her mother’s mind.

The evening with her mother made a deep impression on her, but her love for her and her home had a place in her mind of the yesterdays of her life, both grandparents and parents had once been the Alexander’s but had passed on the batons to their children. It was a need rather than a choice, and a recognition that they should concede the fast lane to the next generation. She saw how her mother was fighting to retain her energy and vivacity for life which would no doubt slowly diminish. Nevertheless the mind was still razor sharp, and in this respect Miriam took some satisfaction that her mamma had the last word.

Being the youngest of the family presented challenges that became more apparent as she grew older, for she found herself treading the same paths of evolution as her siblings, and it seemed that whatever she did would be in some way a carbon copy of their lives—she would eventually marry, have kids, go on holidays as they did, go to work come home…go to work…and on and on, as if on an escalator, and slowly but surely become the grandparents to their children even before they took the title formally. There had to be more to life than simply existing before time ran out. She considered that any adventure that she might plan would reflect on an existing commitment and would be metered out according to someone else’s convenience, either company, partner or children.

She needed time, and time to do what she wanted. But what did she want?

***

It would be another busy day. The Regent Street branch of Spoken Arrow was already packed with youngsters looking to update their existing tablets with the latest form of communication and entertainment. Miriam had been given the responsibility of the training department which necessitated overseeing twenty senior trainers across the country, they would in turn guide the young salespeople that were technically orientated but generally students who would be supplementing their frugal allowances. Any enquiries that they could not answer would pass to the trainers who were invariably post grads and eventually be referred to her. She was good at the job and respected by her team, but it was a position that all previous holders of her position lasted no more than six months before throwing in the towel and was without doubt one of the most demanding jobs in the company. The store opened at 8.45 am and as she arrived outside the premises at 8.30 am she stood still, took a deep breath, straightened herself and marched into the fray.

Grabbing a quick coffee from the machine she placed herself in position and switched her Tablet on. Her first message came surprisingly from Head office in the USA. It was most unusual to receive anything directly from LA as the UK head offices generally were the inter-communicators for their four hundred branches. However, this message was sent directly from the International Head of Marketing and Vice president Martin Moran. Addressing her by her first name he informed her that as the company had received such glowing reports of her skills, they considered her to have the ability to assist them in their drive to bring to the global markets innovative products that would continue to improve the world. We have watched you with great interest for some time Miriam and bearing in mind our own needs, we would like to invite you to LA and to immerse you in our future plans. We believe that you have a great future with us, provided of course you are willing to be involved, may I suggest that you talk with your colleague Julian who will have a very good understanding of our offer to you.

Your thoughts would be greatly appreciated. Congratulations, Martin Moran.

By the time she had digested the email she already had ten enquiries, without any understanding of the email’s content she returned to the floor with a very positive bounce in her walk.

At last, there was a lull and Miriam meandered towards the staff restaurant and reread the message three times and its possible implications.

A sacrosanct ruling in the company demanded that all employees should take a lunch break of at least forty-five minutes. This was to ensure that concentration levels would ‘reenergise’ the mind and allow them to have a clear understanding of their given workload. To facilitate this demand free vegetarian meals were provided with soft background music. Settees and armchairs with coffee tables or small tables for two were spread out on the 3rd floor. A small meditation room with scattered cushions punctuated the point. Although there were no restrictions on sound levels, the atmosphere was that of a library rather than a restaurant. Whist a few members of the staff might have appeared a little cynical of the company’s bohemian approach, the main body of workers appreciated its ambiance and took advantage of a little peace before being swallowed and regurgitated by their eager young customers. From the eighty floor assistants, only one of them was over twenty years old, and it was evident that the entire momentum of the organisation was directed towards the young.

She often used some of her lunch break to talk with her colleague, she would have enjoyed his company on a more personal level but as he was married she thought it advisable to stay at arm’s length. The line between flirtation and friendship was a little difficult to judge, but both realised the dangers of any temptations and its consequences.

Miriam had met his young wife and liked her, in fact they bore a close resemblance to one another. Theodore Jacobs had joined Spoken Arrow over seven years ago, it was his first job after leaving college. He had a Mensa IQ but had learned the art of how to pass on his knowledge in a manner that those with lesser abilities would understand. Theo had been given the opportunity to accept a position at the HQ in California but refused on the basis that he had domestic obligations such as his wife’s pregnancy. She was only two months gone at that time and no one had been told, not even their parents, however, he had no option but to inform HQ the truth as a lesser excuse to refuse would have seemed unworthy, besides, he enjoyed living in the UK. He greeted Miriam as a friend, her job had evolved beyond that which he had originally envisaged and considered their status as equals.

Miri, congratulations, I knew all about it as it was me that put your name forward. They knew who you were of course, and it was unnecessary to interview you as they had studied you doing your job.

But how can that be, I can’t recall anyone spying in the branch?

Come on, Miri, surely you must be aware of the micro cameras – they’re everywhere! said Theo.

I’ve seen them of course, but I assumed that they were simply for internal security.

This store is totally wired, directly hooked up to our central computers, and can be seen in LA as if we were around the corner… not even round the corner, next to you. They can home in on conversations, look at the dilation of your eyes and even know when you’re talking rubbish to a customer. They are virtually in your soul whilst you are in the store…that’s how they know who you are, he smiled. But you don’t have to worry in this office, as it’s the only spot where we’re not bugged. Now I can tell you my little secret: Angie’s pregnant again.

Wow was all that she could find to say. And after a few seconds opened her arms to hug him. It seems that this is wonderful news for both of us, but do you think that I should accept, after all I might not be posted back here when I return?

If you return, he replied. But you’d be crazy not to go, but you’ll be sorely missed. She smiled and kissed his cheek.

On another, but possibly related subject Theo, what do you know about The Ever Young Health Scheme.

Ah, well that is an interesting one, I’m not sure but I believe that Spoken Arrow had an interest in the project. They’ve been working on the areas of the medical market for some time. I have no idea to what extent, it might well be that the new model will have some health reference classification, but if I hear anything regarding that I’ll let you know. When you go there, no doubt they’ll give you the total picture and hopefully you will be able to tell me.

Only, I was thinking of joining the Ever Young scheme, but there are several questions that are worrying me. My doctor explained that they would implant a chip that would modulate any possible imbalances to the metabolism which makes sense, but I would not like to think that there are external controls that might come into play.

I really don’t imagine that anything like that would happen, he replied And thinking about it, it’s a little surprising to me that Spoken Arrow haven’t hit the medical scene yet, Magnum’s Autoplug have really taken the market, but who knows, we’re working for a great company and no doubt they’ll surprise us. At any rate we’re both on the same page, but promise me that if you decide to take up their offer you’ll keep in touch.

That’s a promise, she replied affectionately.

Chapter 3

Brenekov

The Brenekov Brothers had been on the Metropolitan Police lists for a number of years. Both Peter and William were professional gangsters and involved in a wide range of activities from drugs, prostitution, protection rackets and grand scale larceny. They had alternatively done time, each one maintaining continuity of their activities whilst the other served their sentence. It was the risks and dangers involved, and particularly the pleasure of outsmarting the law that motivated them, for they had accumulated sufficient wealth to retire.

Both were married but their different choice of wives influenced their approach to bringing up their children. Pete who was now in his late 50s and the younger had two children, a boy and a girl. Joe, who was now twenty-five and was already known to the courts as his father’s son. He had been lucky to avoid a sentence for drug dealing, but was on their books. It was fortunate for him that