s1e20 doomwatch - wasted
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DOOMWATCH
WASTED
By Grant Foxon
“Life can be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards”
KIERKEGAARD.
New Waste Incinerator. Ellesmere Port 21:28
Colin Hedges didn’t really mind his job. He had just learned that day that things were
going to get more difficult. Colin and most of the staff had to be trained whilst the
facility was being built. The job seemed straightforward, then today in the staff
meeting a huge book full of new rules and regulations was about to be introduced.
Colin realised he wanted a new job.
Colin’s shift would be over in 32 minutes. Shame he would be unconscious in
4 minutes. Out of nowhere Colin’s cough that he believed to be related to hay fever
came back with a vengeance. Very quickly he started to cough up blood. He tried to
shout but couldn’t. In the end he fell to the ground, his body began to contort like the
dying moments of a puppet’s strings being cut. Fellow members of staff soon found
him. His mind consumed, like his body with dioxin emissions…
Timmons felt insecure. He found the well-oiled machine he was a part of a
comfort and indeed a pleasure. But now things were changing. And he could feel
things moving fast. He sensed something big was out there just beyond his peripheral
vision. He also sensed it was bad. He was beginning to sense that Whitehall were
spying on everyone. But why? Timmons thought. Was it procedure? Was it paranoia
or was there a legitimate reason? This uncomfortable presence remained outside
Timmons field of vision. More uncomfortable thoughts entered his mind. How easily
Adam Quist had been made head of Doomwatch and Dr Ridge’s continued presence.
There was “something” happening. This sense of doubt and uncertainty did not sit
well with Timmons. They were two feeling that he could certainly live without and
now Quist no longer wanted him there. Would this mean he would be reassigned? If itwere paranoia then would certain sanctions be secretly put in place regarding me?Timmons pondered these unpleasant questions. He then gazed at himself in the
mirror. He always felt a strange sense of pathos and self pity, when he looked at
himself. Sure, he had a good job but that is all he was. A “suit”. A means of one series
of commands to be passed on. If Timmons were to die today, he would be replaced
quickly. Outside of work he didn’t really exist. There was no real social life or
friends, hobbies and little family for that matter. He might as well remove his own
flesh and hang that up on the coat hanger too when he’s done at the end of the day.
The unofficial meeting was held at Ridge’s third favourite coffee shop. The
reason being that he didn’t want to taint the happiness with which he regarded the first
two coffee shops. In attendance were Paul, Miranda, Eve and himself. The discussion
was about Adam and more important and worryingly, his drinking habit. Ridge had in
the early stages played down Adam’s problem. It was expected of a man of Ridge’s
age and experience to be more acceptable but not Adam. Because Adam wasn’t
committing any crimes, well except for a heightened sense of sarcasm. The drinking
was increasing and Adam was spending noticeably less time at Doomwatch and more
time in drinking establishments or at home consuming vast quantities of alcohol. It
was all getting out of hand. Ridge was only too aware how difficult a role Doomwatch
plays in society and knew also that no one else would want to take it over. With a new
government determined to make cut backs the future was not looking good. All it
would take was one remotely zealous inspector to have a brief chat with Adam and
bang! No more Doomwatch.
“But isn’t the problem that we can’t even begin to
help him if he wont help himself?” Miranda asked.
“Then we have to get through to him” Ridge replied.
“Easier said then done though” Paul chipped in.
And so the conversation continued but it kept returning to the same basic factor. How
can you help a man deal with alcoholism if he doesn’t want the help? The others
asked Ridge about Adam’s father. Ridge couldn’t think of Dr Spencer Quist without
smiling.
“He was a great man. A genuine genius. That doesn’t
mean we always agreed on things. And he could be
stubborn”. Ridge answered.
“The boss is certainly that”. Paul said.
Adam was lying on his bedroom floor. He looked up at the ceiling of his cottage. So
strong was his stare that it looked as if he was looking through the ceiling into the sky.
The alcohol and tablets he had taken were now swirling in his mind. He closed his
eyes.
The first thing Adam was aware of was strange colours. Then the sounds then he
realised he had arrived at an elaborate gothic temple. Then he became aware of a
name for this building.
THE COURT OF THE INNER DIALOGUE
Adam ventured inside. There he found himself sitting in the docks. He glanced at the
jury. He very quickly saw them as Timmons. They all shared his blank dedicated
faces. The prosecuting council stepped forward. Adam knew the face that was smiling
gleefully back at him. It was Clive Sellers.
“Hello there Adam, I’ve been waiting to see you again”.
Adam was dumbfounded unable to answer. He suddenly felt very afraid. The defence
council then stepped forward. He recognised the figure before him. It was his father.
“Hello Son”.
“Father?” Adam replied.
Dr Spencer Quist smiled reassuringly.
Suddenly, the booming voice of the judge echoed forwards. Adam turned to see the
rotund figure. A big bloated body and empty face.
“You have neglected your psychology Quist!”
The judge roared.
“What crimes am I guilty of?” Adam asked unsure.
The judge smiled and turned to Clive Sellers.
“We haven’t decided yet Quist. But we shall”. Clive
spoke slowly and carefully.
Now Adam knew that there could only be one outcome of the trial. His guilt, and
death. Outraged Adam pointed to Clive Sellers.
“This trial is bogus! The prosecuting council is a
killer!”
Clive laughed off Adams accusation.
“Your honour, I think you’ll find that I am not like
other men. The commonly accepted rules of
morality and propriety do not apply to me”.
The judge nodded in agreement.
“Sustained!”
“Thank you your honour”. Clive smiled.
Adam was horrified and looked to his father.
“Dad…help me”.
“I’m trying to son. Please believe me. I’ve always
tried”.
“Objection, the defence council is a killer!” Clive
screamed and then laughed. Dr Spencer Quist stood tall and proud.
“I’m nothing like you”.
Clive smiled hoping he would say that.
“Your honour, Dr. Spencer Quist participated in the
development of the atomic bomb which when dropped
in 1945 in Japan killed 14,0000 in Hiroshima and
8,0000 in Nagasaki. I find it rich that the accused and
his council impugn my character!”
The jury nodded in agreement. Adam realised the trial was going even worse than he
feared.
“No! No, your ideology shows you have little if any
regard for human life!” Adam pleaded at Clive.
“I do not argue. But remember its your trial not mine”.
Clive’s huge smug smile dominated Adam’s every thought.
“Your honour, the prosecution has stated that this is
no longer a case for morality or actions, but
personality. And the accused his indicted that he has
potential to be any number of things, I mean, we only
have to look at the defence council his father the late
great Dr. Spencer Quist to see that. But instead he
chooses a different path. One of stagnation which can
only lead to negativity, paralyses of the imagination and
death”.
The jury howled at the prosecution council’s argument. Clive raised his hands
theatrically.
“Thank you, your honour!”
Dr. Quist stood tall and proud.
“I’m here not to bargain or plead for my sons right to
existence but to debate. First of all, I denounce the right
of the prosecuting council because after all he blames
my son the defendant for his death”.
Clive Sellers shook his head.
“Over ruled! The prosecuting council shall remain!”
The judge bellowed.
Adam began to feel hotter and hotter. He could feel some form of sickness entering
him. Devouring him. Then he felt an itch and unpleasantness.
“As you see Dr. Quist, judgment like morality, is not
on your side. How will the atom bombs you’re
equations helped build be remembered? What’s your true
legacy to the human race? That pathetic human in the dock or
the greatest weapon of mass destruction ever? The blueprintfor
mankind’s annihilation”.
The jury applauded. Clive Sellers bowed.
“Thank you! Thank you! My adoring jury. I rest my
case”.
Adam slowly awoke on his bedroom floor. He was sweating profusely. He rubbed his
head, which had become one giant home for a migraine. He wondered why he took
the pain killers and drank so much. He then shrugged the thought off.
The meeting was adjourned. Each member of Doomwatch would try to talk to Adam
and hopefully someone could get through to him. It was the last chance to save him
and Doomwatch.
The next day at Doomwatch, Adam didn’t turn up. Timmons was in first and Ridge
had excused Adam and told him that he was suffering from a bad stomach. He knew
Timmons didn’t buy it even though he acted as if he did.
“Your latest assignment”. Timmons handed the
document to Miranda.
“What is it?” She asked flicking through the document.
“A new waste facility. There has been a death. It’s
believed to have been caused by dioxins which can be
released in the waste process”. Timmons said.
Miranda nodded.
“Leave it with us”. Miranda said. Timmons nodded and
left.
“That’s strange. He never made an idle threat or
mentioned Adam.” Miranda said.
“Maybe Timmons isn’t well either” Ridge stated he
then looked at watch.
“Which reminds me. I have to be making a move”. He
walked towards the door, said “Goodbye” and left.
Miranda began to flick through the case file.
“Put the kettle on Paul”. She said.
Paul sighed.
“Why do I always have to be everybody’s Joey?” He
asked rhetorically.
Adam glanced at the clock. Not that the time really mattered to him. He didn’t
want to wallow in his own self-pity. He just wanted to be alone. Detached from the
rest of society. He glanced at his bookshelf in the living room. It was the only thing
that was tidy. He then fell back into his chair. Adam knew he was in a rut. He just no
longer cared.
Timmons sat alone in his car. He stared outside blankly. He wondered if he
was being watched at the moment. He decided to shake the thought off and fired up
the engine and sped off.
Miranda knew little of waste management. However, it didn’t take long before
she began to learn of their uses in incinerators. Apparently the levels of the dioxins
often rose and fell throughout the year, as incinerators did not always run at optimal
levels all year round. Incinerators were checked frequently throughout the year to
make sure that they were working within safety parameters. Generally, the amount
released was between 1.5 and 45g TEQ per tonne. This new incinerator was of the
Ince class and was scheduled for a bi annual service only. There was a very worried
school of thought, which believed that this might produce much higher levels of
dioxin.
The poor man who had died was Colin Hedges. The autopsy was going to be
soon, then they would know more. But what was known, was that he had suffered
from internal bleeding and what appeared to be some form of anaphylactic shock. He
had then slipped into a coma.
Because of the unknown nature of his death his family had been told very
little. Indeed, local government were worried because of the high hopes and much
publicity been placed on the new incinerator. It had boosted employment for the area
and was seen as was even promoted as an eco friendly solution to waste management.
And then the poor man died. If it was due to dioxin levels then no doubt the entire
place would have to be shut down until the investigation was more likely going to be
covered up.
Miranda stood up and rubbed her eyes. Damn you Adam, it should be youdoing this. But once again I’m stepping in to cover you’re your back, whilst you drinkand get more wasted. Miranda realised she was fast losing sympathy for her boss and
instead was feeling resentment. She didn’t see why the team had to keep carrying him
because of his addiction. She looked down at her mobile she then picked it up.
You’ve brought this on yourself. She thought of Adam and then looked up
Timmons number. She hesitated. Should she call or not? The thought was interrupted
by a knock on the door. Eve entered with the data Miranda had requested. Miranda
thanked her and then decided not to call Timmons. For the moment at least.
Adam was still at home. He was now barely awake and worse still, he had
nothing left in the house to drink. He decided later on if necessary to venture down to
the village pub. He walked through to the bathroom and removing his clothes stared at
himself in the mirror. His eyes were burning red. He touched his flesh. It was clammy
and unpleasant. He looked at his teeth. They were stained yellow. He no longer felt
like an acceptable member of the human race. He felt as though he was living in some
sort of Lovecraftian nightmare world. Like he had slid into some darkened stained
dimension. He could feel some long and bloody war being fought inside his head.
Adam brushed his teeth and then had a long overdue shave. He didn’t want to
eat and indeed thinking about food made him feel sick. He then washed himself threw
some clothes on and headed outside.
The cold air bit straight through to his bones. He considered perhaps changing
his mind about going out, when he noticed a familiar face pull up. It was Timmons.
Timmons had recently seen Adam drunk but to see him sober was a chastising
experience. His skin was worn, almost like leather and his eyes were red.
“Social visit is it?” Adam asked.
“Please, I need to talk with you”. Timmons replied.
Adam turned and opened his front door. He then indicated to Timmons to walk inside.
Timmons did then Adam followed him.
Inside Adam’s cottage they headed into the living room.
“Well, what can I do for you Timmons?”
“Look Adam, I know we don’t see eye to eye. I don’t
trust your methods, likewise you with me but…I think
I’m beginning to see patterns in things that I was
oblivious to before. I think I see why you mistrust the
ministry. I’m scared now because of my insecurities”.
Adam could tell Timmons was serious. He had been disturbed by events. Maybe
Timmons is autistic? Adam thought.
“You’ve been playing chess Timmons but only from
the pawns point of view”. Adam said.
“Look, I know Doomwatch does some good. Please
break the cycle Quist”. Timmons pleaded.
Adam smiled.
“For the good of the country?” Adam asked
sarcastically.
“Your needed Adam!” Timmons shouted.
“I’m not patriotic Timmons. There’s so little to die
for these days”. Adam replied.
“How do you live with this…attitude?” Timmons asked.
“It’s easy Timmons. I’m a realist. Have you ever seen a
picture of Picasso’s Guernica? To many people the
painting is a mess. But I recognise the chaos it
represents. I’m not a fool. I know my problems, I just
choose not to deal with them.
Adam finished his words. They had a profound effect on Timmons who for once
accepted even believed in Adam. Timmons just nodded, recognising something of his
own lack of importance in Adam’s words.
“Now I feel like a drink”. Timmons offered. Adam
smiled at this.
“Now you’re talking”.
Miranda had arranged a meeting for herself and the minister for the
environment to discuss the threats posed by incinerators releasing too much dioxin
levels. She wished Adam would return to work. It was then that she received a phone
call from Paul who had gone into town on his lunch break telling her she had to meet
immediately.
Miranda arrived at the location. A huge pub in the town centre. It was there that she
saw Paul standing outside.
“This had better be good”.
Paul didn’t reply, he just pointed inside the pub. Miranda looked. She saw lots of
obese men in England football t-shirts cheering at the TV. Then she saw a sight and
thought she was dreaming.
Inside the pub she saw what appeared to be Adam and Timmons getting drunk and
laughing together.
“You’ve got to be shitting me?” Miranda said.
Paul didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“I thought if I just told you, you would not believe me”.
Paul said. Miranda turned to him.
“You’re right. I’d never have believed it unless I saw it
for myself. What the hell is going on with the world?”
Miranda shouted. It was then that Miranda’s phone rang out to the tune of Sex and theCity. Miranda answered it and Eve was on the other end.
“Miranda, It’s Eve, the pathologist wants to see you to
give you his report”.
“I’m on my way”. Miranda carried on staring at them
through the pub window.
“What do you want me to do boss?” Paul asked.
“Go back to the office and…ask Eve”.
Miranda turned and walked away in complete disbelief.
Miranda hated this part of the job the most. Dead bodies. She wondered if there
wasn’t a certain psychological disorder with pathologists being able to cut their way
through corpses to find out the causes of death. Anxiously Miranda sat. Then a thin
man resembling Hitler approached her.
“Ahh, you’re here for my report on the Hedges
fellow?” He asked with complete disinterest.
“Yes I’m Miranda from Doomwatch”.
“Yes, yes quite. Well Miranda from Doomwatch,
it’s a very interesting corpse. I didn’t think I’d
see one like him”. The pathologist muttered.
“How so?”
“Well, his insides it seems as if he has inhaled a
carcogenic. His lung tissue was in a bad state for
one thing. Also the back of his neck was blistering.
What the devil was he exposed to?” The pathologist
muttered again with only vague interest.
“That is a very good question”. Miranda replied.
The drinking didn’t seem to last long. Although the depressing numbness of
drinking tends to blot out the passage of time as such so it’s hard to tell. The two men
didn’t really become bosom buddies but they at least understood each other better.
Timmons understood Adam’s pain and his drinking problem. For all Adam could see,
there was no real alternative, he had a depressing side to his personality that the drink
appealed to. Even leading Doomwatch wasn’t enough to break the habit. For the first
time Adam understood Timmons sense of self-worthlessness. That he felt he wasn’t a
real human being and just a cog in a well oiled machine. There were no other facets to
him. He too was feeling depressed. Adam asked Timmons if there was anything he
would die for. Timmons replied that there was nothing, just him and his job was all
that was important.
Miranda arrived at her meeting with the Minister for the Environment. She sat
in his office flicking through various scientific magazines when he suddenly
appeared.
“Ahh greetings! hello there Mrs?” The minister asked
patronisingly.
“Call me Miranda”.
“As you wish Miranda ,please come through”.
Miranda’s first thought was bewilderment. The office was the most ornate elaborate
affair she had seen. It felt like a study in a giant mansion.
“Great place you have here”. Miranda commented.
“Well, it has its uses. So what’s the problem?” The
Minister asked smiling. His smile soon left when he saw images of the dead man
Hedge’s lungs.
“And this is?”
“That is Colin Hedges, he was perfectly fit and healthy.
Then he recently got a job in the new incinerator plant
at Ellesmere Port and it was his internal organs that
got incinerated”.
The minister looked up.
“It’s a shame but if the safety features were used I fail
to see how this has happened”.
“The dioxin levels were way too high. The new style
plants are checked biannually. Which means men like
Mr Hedges were working in toxic levels. The
pathologist had thought Mr Hedges was exposed to a
deadly cathogenic when he performed the autopsy”.
The Minister leaned back.
“I see and the official view of Doomwatch is that the
plant should be closed?”
“For the time being at least minister. Don’t you agree?”
“Quite. You do realise how vital a new incinerator is
in that area don’t you?”.
Miranda couldn’t believe the ministers attitude.
“More vital than human lives?”
The Minister studied Miranda for a moment.
“You’re right. I’ll see to it immediately. Thank you for
raising this issue Miranda”.
The Minister stood up and shook Miranda’s hand. She then left. The Minister picked
the photo up off the table scrunched it up and annoyed, threw it in the bin.
The next day Adam returned to Doomwatch. Shaved and feeling excited. He
walked in early and was amazed to see Miranda already there hard at work.
“You’re early.”
“Yes I’ve had to be since you went awol. Why are you
here Adam?”
“I’m back”. Adam threw up his arms. Miranda just
looked at him.
“Great”. She replied sarcastically.
“Look, I know I was a dick to just go like that but I’m
back now. And raring to go”.
“And drinking?”
“Miranda, I can’t promise to stop that. I just can’t. Not
today”.
“You’re an alcoholic Adam”.
Adam wasn’t going to get annoyed.
“Please Miranda, another chance?”
For better or worse Miranda decided to give him the chance.
THE END
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