Milkshake (7 page)

“Er, hang on, I’ll check.” He kept the print out when he had
withdrawn the $500 and fumbled in his pocket for the small scrap of
paper. He read the numbers individually, still uncertain how to say
such a large figure. Katherine, the maths teacher, waited until he
had finished.

“So we are talking about someone smuggling two hundred and
fifty million dollars into a country with a population of less than
four million. Why on earth would they do that? What would that buy,
apart from an awful lot of something?”

“It’s not just me. According to Burton, other people are
being targeted in the same way to bring money into the country on
stolen credit cards.” David had not stopped to consider there might
be a bigger picture. He remembered being told others were also
unwittingly transporting huge sums of money, but only into New
Zealand? He didn’t know. Now he wanted to. It was clear that
Katherine wanted to know too. David handed her the piece of paper
from the cash machine.

“See, I’m not making this up.” She wanted to see the card
again and stood for a moment, card in one hand, paper in the other,
turning the card over, inspecting it thoroughly. She looked up.
“And you say you found this in your wallet? You’re sure you didn’t
pick it up off the ground or someone offered it to you at the
airport?

“Everything I have told you has happened, I
swear to you. Look, the card has my name embossed on it.”

She handed him back the card and paper. “Here, keep these
safe, finish packing and let’s get out of here.” She moved urgently
round the room, remembering exactly where she had placed every item
before absently throwing them into the case.

“Are you Ok?’

“No. I’m bloody scared, David. I’ll finish this, you go and
get the car and I’ll meet you at reception.”

David picked up the bag he had tossed onto the bed. “I bought
a couple of mobile phones. I thought we should, we might, you know,
just in case we need to keep in touch.”

She looked up from the case. “Good idea. You never know, do
you? Give them to me. I’ll put them in my bag and sort them out
once we’re in the car.”

He ran down the stairs onto the street and back to the car
rental office, slowing to a stroll before entering, trying to look
calm, not too breathless, and not as if he knew she knew. His heart
sank as he walked in to see a man at the desk.

“Mr Turner?”

Did he know, or had he just been told by his colleague to
expect him. “Yes, I’ve come to pick up a hire car.”

“It’s all ready for you. If you would just like to follow me
out, I’ll show you.” It was a blue station wagon, still beaded with
water and glistening under the early evening street lights. “The
keys are in it and there are maps in the glove box. Just replace
any fuel you use. Have a safe trip.”

Chapter 5

May 1997 - Five years earlier

'The concept of mass migration during the twentieth century
has been widely recognized and documented by both academics and
governments alike. Throughout the early-to-middle part of the
century, this has been attributed primarily to the effects of war
and politics. However, in the second half of the century, there has
been a trend towards migration for purely economic, or even social,
reasons. Worldwide affordable travel has encouraged millions to
change continent, or hemisphere, permanently in search of a better
standard of living or lifestyle.

Although the term ‘globalization’ has been in use since the
1940s, its popular meaning is credited to Theodore Levitt, an
American economist and professor at the Harvard Business School who
used the phrase in 1985 to describe the phenomenon of increasing
global connectivity, and integration between nation states,
businesses - both national and multi-national - and individuals.
The significance of Levitt’s work has not been lost on governments
who have seen a potential risk to national identity through the
influx or exodus of large numbers of people.’

Those within the American Government whose job it was to
research and, if required, find practical applications for ideas
put forward by academics like Levitt, came to a startling
conclusion in early 1997. The theory was tantalizing and eminently
provable, but in order to convince the Senate Committees
responsible, they had to be persuaded to put in motion a daring
social experiment.

The Migration Manipulation Program would be a bold and highly
risky course of action, intended primarily to control and influence
the mass movement of people from one country to another without the
knowledge of the government of any country involved or, more
importantly, the people themselves.

The theory was based on research conducted by a team from the
University of Southern California who had used published
statistical evidence to demonstrate that when the price of fuel
rose, Californians drove their automobiles less.'

A simple fact even this current reader found little argument
with. He sighed deeply and read on.

'The theory model has been extrapolated into the wider
population. In the past thirty years, when fuel prices have
increased, people have also been less inclined to fly, so the
number of foreign holidays taken has decreased.'

He peered over his half-moon spectacles at the illustrative
graph showing a correlation between the fluctuating prices of crude
oil from 1973 to the present against the number of overseas flight
taken by Americans during the same twenty year period. He could not
yet see the point, but still pressed on.

He continued reading as the clock struck midnight. The lengthy
report explained that other factors also had a bearing on travel
decisions which, in turn, had a measurable effect on population
migration trends. Economic and political factors in the homelands
of migrants worldwide had been recognized influences for a hundred
years but the Californian sociologists had uncovered evidence to
suggest that far more subtle issues could, over time, influence a
person, or whole families, to decide to move not just house but
country. Crime rates, employment and weather were unsurprising,
elements on the list.

With increasingly heavy eyes, he read on. Just this last
report to finish tonight, he thought, although he could really see
little point as to why this was supposed to be so
valuable.

By page twenty-four he was ready to give up. His eyes were
sore and dry. The clock on the oak mantle chimed half past
midnight. He was about to close the cover when the title of the
next chapter across the page caught his eye:

'
Economic Invasion
- how to create and influence a migrant influx
and thereby manipulate the economy of a nation.'

By two-fifteen, what he had read convinced him how to
potentially save the United States economy nine hundred and fifty
billion dollars over the next twenty years whilst quietly bringing
down the governments of probably eight countries whose leaders were
hostile to the US or whose economies represented a threat to
America’s growth.

Within the week he would convene a meeting of the Chairs of
the Senate Committees to discuss the implications of this report
and how the information could best be exploited. He scribbled on
the notepaper emblazoned with the White House seal as he replaced
the file back into its leather case marked ‘For the Presidents Eyes
Only’ and, sliding the case under his bed, clicked off the
light.

Ten days later, the Chairmen of the twenty-one standing Senate
Committees convened noisily in a White House meeting room. There
was initial confusion, suspicion even, that this unusual unplanned
meeting had been called. There was no imminent threat to national
security that anyone was aware of, no looming natural disaster or
man-made crisis about to unfold.

Most of those present had at least made an attempt to read the
report that had been sent to them. Some had merely thumbed through,
confused by what seemed to be a report by some hippy Californian
post grads discussing holidays and family trends. A few had got
their advisers to read it and to summarize the contents for them.
What possible significance could this have to bring together such a
high powered group of influential senators?

Senator Elmerstein, the Chairman of the Energy and Natural
Resources Committee, who had been given an advance copy of the
report and had read and understood its implications thoroughly, sat
calmly as he waited for the final arrival. He looked up at the
clock high on the wall opposite him. It was now ten-thirty. Lifting
his stiff white cuff to glance at his watch, he looked up and
coughed loudly, instantly bringing the meeting to order. Senators,
who had been greeting each other, enquiring after wives and
mistresses, stopped talking and looked expectantly towards
Elmerstein.

“Gentlemen, thank you for coming this
morning. I hope you have read the report in front of you.”

Fresh copies had been neatly positioned, like table mats, one
for each person present. Those who had discussed the meeting
privately beforehand glanced at each other, exaggerated perplexed
looks on their faces. There was a thud on the large wooden door. It
was a courtesy, not a request for permission to enter. He needed no
permission to enter a room in his own house.

The President strode in. There was an audible gasp, combined
with a teeth-clenching screech of polished wood on wood as
eighty-four chair legs slid sharply back on the parquet floor,
their occupants standing to attention as their Commander-in-Chief
entered the room.

“Morning gentlemen, sorry I’m late. Have I missed anything
Elm?”

Elmerstein had been a Senator for thirty years and had earned
the respect, and in most cases the confidence, of every president
since Nixon. “No, Mr. President, we were just getting
started.”

“Good. Gentlemen, let’s talk about energy.”

The senators looked around for some sign that they were not
the only one in the room who had missed that part of the report.
The President, sensing the confusion, launched straight into a
speech he had spent the previous evening drafting, intending it to
eventually be for public broadcast. “Keeping America competitive
requires affordable energy, and here we have a serious problem.
America is addicted to oil which is often imported from unstable
parts of the world. The best way to break this addiction is through
technology. We must change the way we power our homes and our
automobiles, We must begin to look at cutting-edge methods of
producing ethanol and other so-called bio-fuels using by-products
of corn, wood and switch grass, to name a few.”

The committee members were already very confused. The
President had entered the room and launched into a speech about
energy. The report in front of them was about human migration
patterns. Elmerstein adjusted his position in his seat, turning to
face the President, attempting to interrupt him using body language
alone. The President responded. “Senator Elmerstein, I sense you
wish to say something?”

“Mr. President, if I may interject?”
Elmerstein turned again to face his assembled peers. “The point of
calling you all here today, in the presence of the President, is
that I, that is he, wishes to discuss a matter which relates to the
future of the world’s energy supply and that the method by which we
assure, and indeed secure, this future supply involves an extremely
controversial and delicate, not to say highly confidential, matter.
The potential, or indeed the likely effective destruction of
another sovereign state.”

Elmerstein and the President sat patiently, waiting for the
mass exhalation by twenty ageing politicians interspersed with the
stage-whispers of, as far as Elmerstein could make out, the words
Iraq, Iran, Arabia and Kuwait to subside. The pair glanced at each
other before the President continued once more.

“Some years ago now, the United States
acquired the technology to produce an ethanol-based fuel derived
from something called bovine caseinate. Put simply, a milk
by-product. The problem is the milk which is produced containing
the bovine caseinate, is different from the milk we all put on our
coffee, or on our breakfast cereal, each day. The extra component,
which makes the milk relatively easy and cheap to refine a high
percentage of the whey by-product into fuel, makes it essentially
poisonous to drink. Therefore we have to somehow ensure this
particular milk never gets anywhere near the human food
chain.”

The Chairman of the Committee on Agriculture Nutrition and
Forestry interjected. “Impossible, Mr. President. Look at the Brits
and their mad cow disease.”

“Then the answer,” continued the President,
“is to produce and process the milk in complete isolation; that is
offshore, thereby assuring the integrity of our own domestic
milking herd.”

The Senators began questioning the reasoning of their
President. “But any offshore production would still leave us
vulnerable and exposed to the security of the country in which we
produce, as well as the territories which we import through. Look
at our exposure in the Middle East.”