‘There are some genuine concerns about the safety of that particular vaccine, Mr Secretary,’ said a silver- haired man wearing the uniform of a colonel in the British army.
‘Genuine concerns aren’t going to save your ass when the anthrax bug starts to fly, Colonel.’
‘We have to strike a balance,’ interjected Maltby quickly, trying to defuse the situation. ‘Look,’ he appealed to the room, showing the backs of his hands to the audience with raised thumbs, ‘we’re all in favour of sensible precautions but frankly, there comes a point when too much adherence to safety considerations is going to stop us getting out of bed in the morning. The public demands one hundred per cent safety when it comes to vaccines but they can’t have it… It’s not possible.’
‘What would an acceptable level of safety be, Minister?’ asked the colonel.
Maltby shrugged his shoulders and adopted a disarming smile as if he’d been asked something he couldn’t possibly answer.
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
