Free Famine by John Creasey Page A

“Not synthetic, you say … Does that mean mammals?”
    Campson said jerkily: “Oh, yes. They’re mammals all right – the sexual organs are normal except for being so tiny.” Campson stretched out for a cup of coffee; his hand was shaking.
    â€œCould they be automatons?” Palfrey demanded.
    â€œScientists have been trying to create human life for a long time and obviously it’s conceivable they’ll succeed one day. If they do, then the resulting creatures might not be unlike these midgets. They could be artificially created and incubator bred. I don’t say they are, I simply say they might be.”
    Palfrey took a cup of coffee.
    â€œYes. We’re all guessing. Stomach contents?”
    â€œMostly carbo-hydrates.”
    Palfrey moistened his lips: “Teeth?”
    â€œThey’re probably carnivorous, but haven’t eaten much meat lately. One thing isn’t quite normal,” went on Campson. “Their stomachs are larger, in proportion to the rest of their bodies, than any other organs. I would say they’ve very healthy appetites, and their food goes to muscle. Usually with a mainly carbo-hydrate diet it runs to fat. There’s some factor in their metabolism which might be exactly what we’ve wanted for the cure of obesity. However, that isn’t quite what you’re worried about, is it?” He was more composed now; the telling had eased his mind.
    Palfrey said: “Not yet.”
    â€œWell don’t shout too soon,” warned Campson. “There’s one factor that worries me a great deal. This blood condition is allied to certain forms of leukaemia. There is a trace of radioactivity in the cells, and the condition is not unlike the early stages of leukaemia caused by exposure to atomic radiation. I don’t know the significance of it, but I do know that you should call in your specialists on the effect of atomic radiation on the human body. If these people are radioactive in any way, they might be like disease carriers – always able to pass the disease on to others but inoculated against it themselves. I didn’t want to tell anyone else this – I imagine you would like the findings to be a close secret until you really know the strength of them, wouldn’t you?”
    He didn’t add: “And what that strength proves to be is the thing which terrifies me.”
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Chapter Eight
No Sense of Fear
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    Palfrey sat very still and silent. Joyce stirred. Campson, with an assured matter-of-factness, held out his cup for more coffee, and the girl did not notice immediately. Palfrey began to twist strands of hair round his forefinger.
    â€œRadioactivity,” he said, almost mumbling. “Nasty thought. Joyce.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œTelephone Harwell, immediately. We would like Professor Copuscenti and his staff to examine these bodies independently of Mr. Campson’s report. Ask him to treat it with extreme urgency. Is Baretta back?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œTell him to make all arrangements – Harwell’s not far from Salisbury, there’s no reason why the examination should not be carried out there.”
    â€œI’ll see to it,” said Joyce. She noticed Campson’s cup, took it, poured out, and then stretched out for Palfrey’s. He waved her away. She went out immediately, while Palfrey continued to toy with those strands of silky hair.
    â€œCheer up,” said Campson, better now that the report was off his mind. “I may be wrong.”
    â€œAnd if you’re right, then we know that radioactive midgets are running loose in the Salisbury area, and probably all over Southern England.” Palfrey gave a little bark of laughter. “We’ve inspired a rumour that we’re worried about rats spreading disease.”
    â€œThat’s what I call prescience,” said Campson. “What about my written