Milo Moon: It Never Happened (21 page)

‘Well, they both have serious problems that’s for sure. Mary has a mental age of around thirteen, and Milo a little older. Maybe fifteen or sixteen. However their memories are totally fragmented and disassociated in time. They have good clarity about the last ten days or so, but before that they tend to merge time together. Neither have any ability to recall memories older than maybe a year or two at most, but place them in either the wrong time or order.’

‘Childhood memories?’ Marie asked.

‘None whatsoever.’

‘Milo has mentioned that he believes his mind was erased a number of times,’ Luc said.

‘And then replaced,’ Marie added.

‘Well, as much as I would say that that is impossible, it would explain their state. They both express the feeling that they don’t own their bodies. Mary kept raving on about having breasts. She told me she was always flat chested. Can you believe that?’

‘Oh yes Sylvie. They have been a hot topic of conversation between Mary and Milo,’ Marie said, with a smile.

‘So what can we do for them?’ Luc asked Sylvie.

‘Oh, where do I start? A lot of counselling and increasing their connection with their own bodies I think. Are they still on heavy medication, Luc?’

‘Not as bad as at the beginning, but yes, considerable still.’

‘How long will it take to get their dependencies down?’

‘It’s guess work is many ways, because I’ve got no idea of what they were administered. But we’re making progress. I’d have to say another three months at least.’

‘Well, if we can work on their confidence and ability to put some of their memories into a new timeline while you work on reducing their physical dependency, we should be able to stabilise them reasonably well in three months.’

‘Will they ever be, well, normal?’ Marie asked.

‘I doubt it Marie. They’ll need help for the rest of their lives I’m afraid,’ Sylvie said, and looked for confirmation from Luc. He nodded in agreement.

*****

‘It’s the French president, sir.’

‘Right, put him through.’

‘Is any part of this on French soil?’

‘I really don’t know. We don’t have all the details yet.’

‘So are you going to accept the US idea?’

‘I haven’t made a decision as yet.’

‘The German Chancellor is very unhappy with it.’

‘And you?’

‘I must admit I don’t like it either.’

‘What would you prefer?’

‘For Switzerland to take responsibility for the patients, and all the staff deported.’

‘Secretly?’

‘That’s the only area I agree with the US.’

‘And the Chancellor?’

‘The same in principal.’

‘Very well. I’ve got an angry federal council here, so there’s a long way to go yet. But I understand your position. Just one thing. Why did you ask about it being under French soil?’

‘If it is, I’ll make sure the Americans never forget. Could be useful leverage.’

‘Right. I’ll keep you briefed.’

As Staheli was finishing his call, a meeting was just starting in Basel. The chairmen of the major Swiss pharmaceutical companies met rarely, but this issue affected all of them.

‘So what’re the chances of it being closed completely?’

‘High.’

‘And any estimates of the financial impact?’

‘We’ve estimated we’d have to increase our R and D expenditures by seven hundred percent.’

‘That’s impossible. None of us could even handle a one hundred percent increase.’

‘Well, we may have to face the reality. We’ve had cheap research in exchange for supporting this for nearly sixty years. There’d be no way of starting again.’

‘So where are we at?’

‘There’s a political move underway to transfer it.’

‘To where?’

‘Russia.’

‘Makes sense. Chances of it happening?’

‘Fifty-fifty, I’d say.’

‘I think we’d better start contacting federal councillors and putting some pressure on. Agreed?’

*****

Rudiger Staheli wished this had not been his year to hold the rotating presidency of Switzerland. The economic affairs portfolio was his normal post, and it offered him little in knowing how to resolve what was now becoming an extremely sensitive international issue. He had just finished a briefing with the secret services, and he was at least a little comforted by the information he had been given. Although not fully confirmed, the latest intelligence pointed to a reduction in the threat against Milo Moon and Mary Seaton. Intelligence ‘chatter’ had loosely linked the shooting at HUG with US and Russian secret services, but inconclusively. The incident with the doctor in Bern seemed to have been more chance than anything else. Anyone having contact with staff at CERN would have no further contact with Moon and Seaton.

In between his security briefing and the scheduled start of the session in the parliament, Staheli received calls from the German Chancellor, the US Secretary of State and had an hour-long meeting with the chairmen of two of the largest pharmaceutical conglomerates in Switzerland. After a long session in the house, he returned to his office to find messages from the Russian and UK foreign ministers. He returned their calls. When he left his office just a little before two a.m., he knew that there was general agreement on one point. The facility must be closed as soon as possible. However, there was no such consensus on who would close it, or how it would be closed. Then there was the issue of the possible transfer of the program and the people involved.

When he woke the next morning, Staheli was clear about his next move. He wanted to see Sootere for himself before considering any possible resolution. He was pleased to gain full support for his plan from all members of the Federal Council. He would endeavour to arrange a secret inspection with a suitably qualified medical advisor and a senior officer of the Swiss secret police. After the meeting he called the UK foreign minister.

‘CERN is European, so it’s up to you.’ Staheli said firmly.

‘But I’m not sure if they’ll agree.’

‘Well, if they want to move on this, they’ll have to agree. Either I inspect this place myself, and then look at the possibilities, or I face being outvoted in Council and you’ll have our army going in there within a week.’

‘There’s no way that would….’

‘I assure you it will. They’re on standby already.’

‘That would be disastrous.’

‘Get me in there within forty-eight hours.’

‘But it’s going to be difficult to get….’

‘It’s up to you then. I need an answer before my Federal Council meeting tomorrow morning.’

‘I’ll get back to you.’

*****

In Basel, a Russian envoy arrived for his meeting after driving the short distance from Baden Baden. There needed to be agreement, quickly.

‘We can offer the facilities to continue gentlemen. But funding will be the key issue.’

‘So you want us to pay for it to be moved?’

‘No. For its continuation.’

‘What? The whole damn program?’

‘Gentlemen. You have all profited from the agreement that was reached after the war. Sixty years of cheap research and development. All of it subsidised by our governments.’

‘Yes, but your military and intelligence services profited as well. Not just us.’

‘Granted. But there’s a political mood change now.’

‘What? You guys want out.’

‘That’s sums it up pretty well.’

‘So what happens if we tell you to shove it?’

‘Gentlemen. We all know you can’t afford that result.’

Chapter 20 - Lost In Time

‘Did you play games?’ Dr. Sylvie Rousseau asked Milo, as she tried using hypnosis to see if she could find out more from Milo.

‘No. I think I had a book.’

‘What was the book about?’

‘It had pictures….of….butterflies.’

‘Anything else?’

‘No...only butterflies.’

‘Can you remember the colours, Milo?’

‘Green, purple, black, grey. Dark colours.’

‘Do you remember who gave you the book?’

‘A doctor.’

‘A man or a woman doctor, Milo?’

‘A woman. She talked nicely.’

‘What was her name?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘And how old were you then, Milo?’

‘Very young I think. I went with Andrew.’

‘Andrew?’

‘He was my friend.’

‘Tell me about Andrew, Milo.’

‘Andrew was smart. He could draw things and remember songs and he used to tell me stories about monsters.’

‘What sort of monsters, Milo?’

‘With guns and black boots and knives and they tied up people and put acid in their eyes and set fire to them.’

‘You must have been scared.’

‘The monsters were all black and mean. They had big needles and injected poison into people and watched them die in agony,’ Milo said, and started to sob.

‘Was Andrew older than you?’

‘Yes, he was my friend.’

‘Is he still in Sootere?’

‘No, he was terminated a long time ago.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘People are always terminated. You know because they disappear.’

‘So how are these people terminated? Do you know?’

‘Mary knows. She put termination dates in files. That was her job.’

‘Were you sad when people you knew were terminated?’

‘No. Not really. It happened all the time. There was always a new friend.’

‘Can you remember your first friend, Milo?’

‘I think...I think….maybe it was Ariel. I think so.’

‘When did you meet Ariel?’

‘A long time ago. He was terminated.’

‘And you met him in Sootere?’

‘No. Not Sootere. It was before I went to Sootere.’

‘Can you remember where it was?’

‘No. I’m sorry. I only remember a sign. Siebzehn. Klinik Siebzehn.’

‘All right Milo. Relax and breathe deeply for me.’

*****

‘You can’t be serious Sylvie?’ Luc asked.

‘I am. Both Mary and Milo have memories that go back more than sixty years.’

‘That’s impossible. They hardly have the mental capacity of fifteen years olds.’

‘I know it’s crazy. But I get the impression that they have been at this mental age for a very long time. Milo’s memories are confused, but clear enough for me to form a picture of hospitals, doctors, soldiers, painful experiments and torture.’

‘Nazi?’

‘I couldn’t say for sure, but he paints a picture similar to it.’

‘And Mary?’

‘Her memories are not as old as Milo’s, but still far too long ago and too many for her obvious mental age. It’s as if they’ve been recycled over and over.’

‘What, mentally?’

‘Yes. Or at least not allowed to develop.’

‘You have all this recorded?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘I’d like to see it for myself.’

Marie’s mobile phone vibrated in her pocket while she was watching the video of Sylvie’s hypnosis sessions of Milo and Mary.

‘Excuse me, I need to take this.’

‘Hello.’

‘It’s Martin, Barbara. We need to meet.’

‘Where?’

‘Bern.’

‘When?’

‘Tomorrow. Ten a.m. The address is coming by text,’ Martin said, and Marie heard the click of the call ending.

‘I’m sorry,’ Marie told Luc and Sylvie when she returned. ‘I have to go to Bern this evening.’

‘Is everything okay?’ Luc asked.

‘Probably just a briefing. Did I miss anything important?’

‘I’ll just rewind a little for you,’ Sylvie said.

‘What worries me most about this is the people who are still down there,’ Luc said, as Sylvie re-started the video.

‘You think these two may be typical?’ Marie asked.

‘Can you imagine treating perhaps more that one hundred people in the condition we found Milo and Mary?’

‘What? All with mental ages similar to these two?’ Sylvie asked.

‘Yes. A horrific thought,’ Luc said gravely.

‘God! We’d need a team of hundreds of physicians and psychiatrists,’ Sylvie said, with a tone of impossibility.

‘There may be more. We’ve got no idea how many poor souls are down there,’ Marie replied, as Sylvie shook her head and pushed the play button. The session with Mary re-started.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Mary.’

‘Have you always been called Mary?’

‘Oh no. I was called Hilda for a while.’

‘When you were young?’