The Plague Dogs Read Free

replied Mr. Powell.
    "I thought you told me we definitely had?" Dr. Boycott's voice was a shade sharper.
    "Yes, that's right," said Mr. Powell hastily. "We have."
    "Good. Well, it can go into the cylinder this evening. Now you're sure that that cylinder excludes all light?"
    "Yep. No light, restricted movement, adequate ventilation, wire mesh floor, faeces and urine fall through. It's all checked."
    "Right, well, start it off, keep it under twice daily observation and, of course, mark the particulars up in a log. The total number of days should be kept up to date day by day, on a slate beside the cylinder. That's a matter of courtesy to the Director. He'll probably want to see it."
    "Where's it to be kept, chief?" asked Mr. Powell.
    "It doesn't matter, as long as it's somewhere where you can readily keep an eye on it," answered Dr. Boycott. "I suggest, near where you normally work, as long as it's not anywhere near any other animals. There should be silence, as far as possible, and no organic smells, of course. That's part of the deprivation, you understand."
    "How about the balance-cupboard in Lab .4, chief?" asked Mr. Powell. "Plenty of space in there at the moment and quiet as the grave."
    "Yes, that'll do," said Dr. Boycott. Don't forget to tell Tyson about feeding, and keep me informed how it goes on. We'll aim at—well, say—er—forty-five days."
    "Is that the lot, chief?"
    "Yes," said Dr. Boycott, with his hand on the door. "But since it seems necessary to mention it, you'd better see that this tank's cleaned out. There's silt on the bottom which shouldn't be there."
    It was only after a considerable administrative and political battle that the site for Animal Research, Surgical and Experimental (A.R.S.E.), had been approved at Lawson Park, a former fell farm on the east side of Coniston Water. As a Departmental project the scheme had, of course, attracted deemed planning permission, but following Circular 100 consultation both the County Council and the Lakeland National Park Planning Board had objected to it so strongly that the responsible Under Secretary at the Department of the Environment (having, no doubt, a vivid mental picture of himself in the chair at any confrontation discussions that might be arranged to try to resolve the matter in Whitehall) had taken very little time to decide that in all the circumstances a public local enquiry would be the most appropriate course. The enquiry had lasted for two weeks and at various times during the proceedings the Inspector (who in his private hours lulged a taste for seventeenth-century English history). (23)
    The deputy county clerk had cross-examined the Ministry experts with brilliant penetration on the precise extent of the urgency and need to site yet another Government project in a national park. The Secretary of the Countryside Commission, subpoenaed by the Planning Board, had been virtually compelled to give evidence against the Department into which he was hoping to be promoted to Under Secretary. The Council for the Protection of Rural England had greatly assisted the case in favour of the project by testifying with passionate emotion that nobody ought to be allowed to build anything anywhere any more. A Mr. Finward, a retired merchant naval officer, who occupied a cottage on the fell not far from the site, had threatened the Inspector with bodily injury unless he undertook to report against the proposal. And a Mr. Prancebody, who testified amongst other things that he had discovered the truth of the British Israelite theory while exploring the Derbyshire caves, had read in evidence most of a sixty-three-page submission, before the long-suffering Inspector had ruled it to be irrelevant and inadmissible and Mr. Prancebody, violently objecting, had been somewhat eponymously removed by the police. There was,, in fact, scarcely a dull moment throughout the proceedings. Of particular interest had been the evidence of the R. S. P. C. A., who were emphatic that