THE FIRST ANGEL 8

The room-service message flashing on the wall-screen was hard to miss. Not fancying having to eat with a bunch of people who were wondering who the hell I was or what the hell was I doing here I chose to have breakfast in my room. Using the self-sterilising pad next to the bed I placed my order for a light breakfast at 08.40.

To my surprise it was delivered by young woman rather than a robotic device that were pretty much the norm in hotels. It was fortunate for her I was fully dressed. Usually I wandered about in hotel rooms in my underwear (or less) before dressing at the last minute safe in the knowledge robots don’t get offended at the sight of a naked body or stake bogus sexual assault claims.

I followed the signs to the conference centre located in an extended centre section of the C-shape hotel complex. A guard in a rather natty military uniform asked for my delegate pass – hastily prepared by Dietmar’s admin people. She struggled to find me on her list. The moment she found it added on the bottom and hence out of alphabetical order Dietmar came to rescue me. He led me to a row of chairs reserved for him and his staff.

We sat to the left facing the podium. On the right side a row of chairs reserved for the speakers. Behind us, chairs for the audience placed in neat rows of fifteen. Above the podium an enormous flat screen hung ready to transmit the speakers’ supporting illustrations.

Dietmar in business mode left me while he welcomed each speaker as they arrived. Manuel, the first presenter took his place. I knew him vaguely and we nodded. Dietmar greeted two men I assumed were the other speakers while the audience arrived in polite shuffling silence. He disappeared for a minute or so until I saw him escorting a slim and very attractive young woman. They were clearly in serious whispered conversation. After appearing to hesitate for a second Dietmar crossed toward me with her on his arm and beckoned me to join them.

‘Professor Granger may I introduce Lila-Grace Langley.’

Lila-Grace dressed in the latest style looked around twenty-five. I guessed she was at least ten years older. I noticed her auburn hair was flecked with real silver and gold tints, a look favoured by fashion models whom she could easily have passed for.

‘Good morning, Miss Langley.’

‘Good Morning, Professor. I believe they call you Jonny. Please call me Lila.’ Her voice soft and round the accent mid-Atlantic tinged with Deep South. I found out later she was from Vancouver.

‘Yes. Friends and close colleagues normally call me Jonny.’

I noticed Dietmar’s eyes widen backed up by an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

‘I would be pleased to count you as one of my close colleagues. Lila.’

She offered a coy giggly chuckle squeezing her eyes like a teenager.

‘I am sure we will be close, Jonny. I have heard about your work. I hope you will find the time to fill in some detail of how things are panning out.’

‘I’d be interested to know what you have heard. Perhaps we should be sharing details.’

Dietmar raised his eyes and Lila’s flickered displeasure.

‘Oh we will, Jonny. I think I’d better take my seat and let the proceedings commence.’

‘I’m sure it’ll be very informative. . . . The presentations.’

We shook hands. I felt her exquisitely patterned nails digging into my skin while offering a coy smile.

I didn’t think I’d met anyone from the UDIA before. As Dietmar escorted her away I knew I hadn’t. No one had ever made me feel as uneasy as Lila-Grace Langley.

Once everybody was in place the entrance to the room was closed by the guards and the session got underway. Dietmar introduced Manuel De Los Hoyas and after a short check the screen was functioning he began his presentation. On returning to his chair Dietmar whispered in my ear.

‘Lila’s set up a cabin meeting at 16.30. Be careful, Jonny.’

Manuel’s voice boomed out on the Super-Fi PA system devoiding me of a chance to reply.

I dreaded hearing all this again and wondered why it was necessary. Manuel’s delivery was calm and proficient belying the fact he was describing a potential apocalypse. Apart from the final paragraphs I knew the contents. I had delivered similar lectures many times.

AVA is an easy to remember acronym (as if we could ever forget) of its given nomenclature: Adeno-associated virus adjuctus-13. An engineered mutant of an AAV (Adeno-associated virus). Small and generally safe they are used as helper viruses combining with larger adeno viruses to combat pathogenic organisms. Larger adeno viruses include influenza and common cold like viruses.

Some AAVs were found to cause limited infertility. Research began in some countries into the use of this property to control excessive populations of invasive and nuisance animals, such as the monkey invasion in Asian cities due to habitat loss. It was potentially easier and more humane than culling or poisoning. Work was shelved when test Macaques tended to miscarry and die from infection rather than become infertile.

It is thought a laboratory somewhere managed to develop – by accident or design – AVA. It alters the DNA of semen and the mucus protecting female eggs causing bi-sexual infertility when combined with an adeno virus. All that was needed was for lab workers, through bad practise, to get AVA in their system where it lay dormant until one got infected by a cold or flu.

(“It is thought” being science speak for, we don’t want to be involved in a political bombshell.)

In the late twenties an exhausted World was coming out of a disastrous pandemic. The offending Sars virus having mutated losing its virulence to mere flu or cold like symptoms. Since AVA infections caused similar symptoms – and a relieved WHO let its guard down – it went unnoticed until sharp falls in global pregnancies and hence births were registered. By then it was too late. It all but destroyed the WHO.