As the boarding room became emptier, the background noise of the flatscreen television playing Mainstream News somewhere above Lawrence was brought to the foreground.
‘Reports of a new strain of Covid-19 are emerging from Argentina’ the TV said. ‘Experts warn of a new quadruple mutant variant which is so far believed to have infected at least one thousand, five hundred sixty-three people in the Floresta neighbourhood of Buenos Aires.’
‘Ridiculous’ quietly remarked the woman sitting next to Lawrence. Despite the mask, he could tell she was quite beautiful — it was a skill he had been developing since 2020 (unconsciously, of course).
She shook her head and looked away.
‘Interesting’ he thought. She had her UV document in one hand and printed out QR codes in the other. She also had a son, it seemed. He was seated next to her, reading a children’s book.
‘A man in his early hundreds is so far believed to have died as a result of this new mutant strain, which certainly appears to be more dangerous than the last’ the TV continued. ‘The district has been geo-fenced, and anyone leaving the area will be escorted back by the authorities for their personal safety. We will keep you updated as the situation develops. Back to you, Simon.’
‘Bloody hell’ thought Lawrence. ‘This is never going to end, is it?’
The room was now empty.
Except for Lawrence, the woman sitting in front of him, her boy, an elderly man, and two more non-priority passengers who had just gotten up with the intent of boarding the plane before being reminded to wait until they were summoned. The couple — a man and a woman in their fifties wearing what seemed like Nigerian or West African apparel — appeared confused, but they obliged and returned to their seat.
A few minutes later, the boarding call finally came.
‘Dear non-priority passengers, you are now invited to board the plane.’
‘That’s us, momma, right?’
‘That’s us, kiddo' replied the boy’s mother in passing before taking a deep breath and standing up.
‘Please make your way to the desk and be sure to have your passport open on the photo page, your three QR codes ready for scanning, as well as your UV travel Permit. And your mask. Don’t forget your mask. Thank you for your co-operation.’
Lawrence checked his inner jacket pocket once more, just to make sure.
First in line was the couple who had just been asked to go back to their seats. They presented their passports, scanned their QR codes, and handed their UV Permits to the gate agent, who inspected them thoroughly.
‘Grounds of exemption?’
‘Religious’ the man readily replied.
Although Lawrence wasn’t the one being asked, the question slightly surprised him. He was sure to have heard Danny say something about a law — an Equality Act or something like that— that protected people from having to answer these kinds of questions.
'For both of you?' the lady asked the couple quizzically.
'Indeed' replied the man, who seemed wholly unbothered by the line of questioning. After a few more moments, she folded the Permits and put on a smile.
'Enjoy your flight.’
The couple exchanged knowing looks, took their documents, and disappeared inside the air bridge without saying a word.
'Next.'
Lawrence walked up to the desk, presented his papers, and scanned his codes.
'Passport, sir?'
His mind was elsewhere.
'Passport, sir?'
'Oh, right, excuse me’ he said as he fumbled into his satchel and pulled out (what used to be) the most important document of all.
'Here you go.'
An uncomfortable silence took over as she examined his papers. He never quite knew what to do with himself in these situations, but after a few seconds of inner deliberation, he took out his phone and started scrolling through his social media feed. A quick glance was enough to see that the world was already talking about what had been unfolding in Argentina. Unsurprisingly, Mainstream News was already on it, spreading headlines that encouraged resilience and level-headed thinking, such as “Deadly New Mutant Strain Ravages Buenos Aires”, and “Could Argentina be the Source of the Next Deadly Covid Variant?” Then, just as he started reading on one of the articles, a voice called out to him.
‘Mr. Reid?’
Eyes locked on the blue-lit screen
‘Mr. Reid, may I ask whether your Permit was renewed within the last forty days?’ asked the gate agent, effectively pulling Lawrence out of his momentary social media trance.
‘I’m sorry, what?’
‘Your UV Permit, sir. Was it renewed within the last forty days, as per the current guidelines?’
'Forty days?' exclaimed Lawrence as he abruptly stuffed his phone back in his pocket. 'I was under the impression that the renewal period was three months. Has something changed?'
'Mr. Reid, the guidelines changed about a week ago. On the twelfth of November, if I am not mistaken.'
‘A week ago?’ Like a tiny seed, the unsettling feeling of missing an important document at the airport started forming somewhere inside Lawrence’s stomach.
‘Indeed, sir. I believe it was done in response to the Mainstream News reports about people forging their Permits’ she replied. ‘This way it is much more difficult for criminals to falsify them.’ A complacent smile accompanied her words.
Criminals. The word struck Lawrence, although he wasn’t quite sure why. There was something about it being used in this context
— was she somehow implying that he could be a criminal?
Of course she wasn’t. There’s a pandemic, for god’s sake.
The lady is just doing her job.
‘Mr. Reid?’
‘Yes, ma’am. I understand. But, what does this mean? Is there anything you can do?’
‘Mr. Reid, unfortunately one cannot travel without their UV Permit.’
The seed in his stomach had just grown a little larger
‘What? But, I mean, I have it right here. I just didn’t know about this rule change’ he pleaded. ‘Surely this doesn’t mean that I’m going to miss my flight?’
‘Mr. Reid, I am afraid that we cannot accept un-renewed UV Permits on this flight. Please fill this form and allow the next non-priority passenger to come forward’ she said. Her tone had suddenly become cold (her smile, however, was still there).
As Lawrence looked over the form, a soft, assertive voice called out to him from behind.
‘Excuse me, sir. Is everything okay?’
Lawrence turned around to see the woman who had sat next to him earlier waiting in line behind him with her little boy.
’Sorry to keep you waiting, ma’am. There appears to be an issue with one of my documents’ he replied. ‘We’re trying to get it sorted. Just give us a moment, if you don’t mind.’
‘Oh, it’s okay. I was just going to ask if you need any help’, she said. ‘Traveling can get complicated these days. Especially for us’.
Us?
‘Well, the lady is saying my Permit is not valid as it was not renewed within the last forty days’ he replied.
‘Just curious — were you aware of this change?’
The woman nodded. ‘Here. I think I might be able to help’ she said as she pulled a small, yellow booklet out of her purse and handed it to him.
‘This document outlines the numerous ways in which the Government’s New Normal policies go against the law’ she explained to Lawrence.
‘Unfortunately, not many people are aware of this and simply go along with whatever new requirement is imposed on us.’
Us
‘Mr. Reid?’
‘I’m sorry, just one moment’ Lawrence told the gate agent as he flicked through the pages of the booklet. It was titled “The Autumn Manifesto” and seemed to consist of various legal and ethical arguments against the New Normal biosecurity measures. He remembered seeing a similar one at Danny’s house over the weekend.
‘By the way, this sudden rule change they’re talking about — it’s just a way to drive up Epsilon-2 vaccination’ the woman asserted.
‘You know that, right sir?’
Lawrence nodded — though of course, he didn’t know.
Have I stumbled upon the female version of my brother?’ he asked himself.
‘Mr. Reid, this plane is about to depart.’
Shit
‘I’m really sorry’ said Lawrence. ‘You’re very kind, but…I’m not into this sort of conspiracy stuff’ he told the woman sotto voce as he handed the booklet back to her. ‘I do know someone who is, though. Here, you two should get in touch’ he said as he scribbled down a phone number on a piece of paper and gave it to her.
‘It’s my brother. His name is Danny. Lovely bloke’ he smiled.
She took the note, but couldn’t quite find the words to respond.
‘Sorry about that, ma’am’ he finally told the gate agent, who was now visibly irked.
‘You said I had to complete a form?’