Hamish X Goes to Providence Rhode Island

by Sean Cullen

  “I found the Professor. He told me what my purpose is,” Hamish X said bitterly. “I’m a tool, a cog in a machine, a computer chip. The idea that I could be anything else was … it was stupid. I’m a tool.”

  The King shook his head, pushed an unruly shock of red hair off his brow. “You are what you believe yourself to be. That is the only thing I can tell you. The Hamish X I know is smart, loyal, genuine, and kind. I’ve never met a wrench with those qualities.”

  Hamish X stood up and went to the railing of the terrace. He looked out over the perfectly simulated landscape, his face hard. His golden eyes were angry. He felt a hand on his shoulder. The King spoke again. “Here’s the other thing about tools: they can turn on their users. Hammers hit thumbs and nails equally. You have to remember that at the final moment, Hamish X.” The King turned Hamish X around to face him. “No. It’s just Hamish now, isn’t it? The X is a designation given to you by the ODA. You’ve outgrown them, Hamish. They sent you out into the world to expand your mind, to build your brain, but they didn’t understand that you are more than a bunch of nerves and tissues and programs. They just can’t understand that you have grown a heart as well. You are a good boy, Hamish. Did you hear me? A good boy. Now, it’s time for you to wake up. You have work to do. Eat this.”

  The King popped a small chocolate into Hamish X’s mouth. Reflexively, Hamish X bit down and his mouth was flooded with the richest, most beautiful chocolate flavour he had ever tasted. As the chocolate melted and flowed down his throat, the surrounding scene, the terrace and the cavern, began to fade. The King became insubstantial before his eyes.

  “The breakfast was a program that will free you from the restraints.” The King smiled and said, “Goodbye, Hamish X, and good luck.”

  Inside the cabin of the Space Plane, Hamish X raised his head. In his mouth, the faint residue of the dream of chocolate danced on his tongue. He looked up and saw Thomas and Maggie strapped in their restraints and Mr. Candy floating at the porthole. Maggie’s eyes widened, but Hamish X shook his head ever so slightly. She clamped her mouth shut. She elbowed her brother, who looked at Hamish X and kept the surprise from his face.

  Hamish X mouthed a single word: “Wait.”

  Mr. Candy sensed they were looking at something other than the porthole and turned his head to find that Hamish X was inert as ever, his head lolling in the absence of gravity.

  “Oh, Hamish X,” the Grey Agent said. “We will land in Providence in a few minutes. And oh, we have a surprise for you.”

  It was all Hamish X could do to keep himself from smiling and betraying himself until the Grey Agent spun away and disappeared through the cockpit door.

  Mr. Crisp

  The main chamber was a hive of activity. Every available Grey Agent was occupied with the task of priming the gate. Mr. Crisp and his security detail stood looking out over the vast chamber, the beautiful, pulsating gate shedding the glorious light of the homeworld over them all. Many last-minute diagnostic checks were underway, and the construction of the interface module was almost completed. Mr. Crisp was forced to continue the search for the intruder with a bare minimum of troops. He had only twenty Grey Agents under his command. As a result, he was relying heavily on the artificial intelligence known as Mother to carry out most of the quartering and searching of the ventilation shafts.

  “Mother,” Mr. Crisp said, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice. “Have we narrowed down his location yet? Mr. Sweet and Mr. Candy report they are en route with Hamish X in custody. We must capture the interloper! Nothing can jeopardize the opening of the gate. Do you understand?”

  “I understand more than you can imagine.” Mother’s voice was beautiful and cold. “The intruder is wearing some form of body coating that confounds my sensors. I am running programs to collate the data. I am creating a means of tracking him using ambient heat and sweat traces. I’m very close.”

  “Close isn’t good enough,” Mr. Crisp said flatly. “I—”

  Mother interrupted Mr. Crisp’s complaint. “I have a possible location for the intruder.

  “Based on collated data, my sensors tell me there is a temperature discrepancy in ventilation shaft seventy-eight.”

  “Excellent,” Mr. Crisp sneered with Aidan’s mouth. “Release the swarm.”

  “Very good, Mr. Crisp.”

  Chapter 27

  PARVEEN

  The hours since he had been discovered in the armoury had been the most harrowing in Parveen’s short life. The entire ODA Headquarters had been mobilized to hunt him down. He felt like a rat in the walls of a house, scuttling along the ventilation shafts, trying to keep ahead of his pursuers.

  The fact that he was still on the loose was more a testament to the narrowness of the shafts than any ingenuity on his part. The Grey Agents had figured out immediately that he was hiding in the ventilation system after he’d been seen escaping from the elevator. Knowing where he was and capturing him, though, were two totally different matters.

  The Grey Agents had tried at first to climb into the shaft after him. Parveen’s small size allowed him to move with ease, but the agents were not so lucky. They found it difficult to negotiate the narrow passages. After Parveen ambushed two of the agents sent in after him, frying their circuits with two of his last three hamster bombs, his opponents had decided that direct pursuit was not the wisest option. From that point on, they decided to use a more indirect approach.

  Parveen was relieved when the Grey Agents retreated momentarily. Had they known that only one hamster bomb remained to him, they might have pressed the attack and that would have been the end of him. He sat with his back to the wall of a shaft, breathing heavily and trying to decide on a course of action.

  His capture was inevitable. The ODA had access to all the schematics of their facility. They had only to bide their time, carefully quarter the facility, and drive him into a dead end. Parveen was resigned to that moment. What he managed to achieve before he was captured was the only thing left to consider.

  He took an inventory of his equipment. He had the kilogram of plastic explosive he had liberated from the armoury. He had two pistols stolen from the fallen Grey Agents he had dispatched in the shaft with the hamster bombs. He had his multitool and small set of electronic tools, including a battery-operated soldering iron. He had a flashlight and his sneaky suit.

  “Not much,” Parveen said aloud. “But I’ll think of something.”

  He tensed as he heard a skittering sound, like claws scrabbling on the metal of the ventilation shaft. Parveen was puzzled: he’d never seen any animal life in the shafts in the time he’d been hiding there. The skittering drew nearer. Parveen hefted one of the stolen pistols and aimed it at the corner of the shaft.

  The thing looked like a cockroach, but it was obvious that it was artificial: a product of the ODA laboratories. For one thing, it was the size of a small housecat. Its shell was silvery and too metallic to be natural. Long antennae sprouted from the top of its swivelling head. They waved in the air, searching the shaft. Parveen tried to remain completely still. The creature shuffled forward, its steel feet tap-tapping on the metal floor of the shaft as it approached. Parveen held his breath. As slowly as he could, he began to raise the pistol.

  The thing seemed to sense the minute movement. It paused, antennae swinging towards Parveen. It shuffled closer.

  Parveen had begun to perspire. The sneaky suit was not really air-conditioned and the shaft was warm. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and a drop formed on the bridge of his nose, gathering into one large droplet that slowly trickled down to the tip of his nose, hanging there and tickling Parveen terribly. He fought the urge to brush away the offending bit of salt and water.

  The shiny insect crept closer. Parveen felt the weight of its body on his right boot and tried to remain perfectly still. The creature crawled up his leg. The antennae waved closer and closer until one of them reached out and carefully, oh so delicately, brushed the droplet of sweat on the ti
p of Parveen’s nose.

  Suddenly, the shaft was filled with a shrill screeching that was silenced when the pistol in Parveen’s hand discharged and the cockroach-thing exploded into fragments. A hole the size of Parveen’s head appeared in the wall of the ventilation shaft.

  Parveen breathed deeply, his lungs hungry for air after holding his breath during the long seconds of the terrifying encounter. His entire body trembled. Lying on the floor of the shaft was a tangled mass of wires and circuit boards, the remains of the creature. Parveen reached down and grabbed a handful of its shattered workings. He peered at the refuse, trying to figure out if anything would be usable in the construction of a detonator.

  He was interrupted by an eruption of skittering noises from the direction the first creature had just come. Stuffing the wires into his backpack, Parveen turned and scampered in the opposite direction. He looked over his shoulder in time to see a swarm of the cockroach-things pour around the corner of the shaft, moving like a shimmering metal wave flowing in his direction.

  Parveen pulled out both of his pistols and emptied them into the oncoming bugs. The effect was miniscule. When the guns were empty, Parveen turned and ran as fast as he could. He had to stay ahead of them. He had a plan that might save him for the short term, but he had to remember the right twists and turns of the ventilation system. One false turn might lead to his being cornered in a cul de sac.85 He turned and turned again, barely staying ahead of the skittering metal insects.

  The swarm was soon nipping at his heels. He scrambled around the final corner and kicked away one of the electronic bugs that had latched on to his foot. He looked ahead down the shaft and saw what he was searching for: at the junction of two corridors, a vertical shaft dropped away into the depths. He’d discovered this shaft on his mapping expedition. Parveen didn’t know how deep it was, but he couldn’t see the bottom of it when he had stood and looked down. The shaft was about four metres wide. He wondered if the metal creatures chasing him could jump that far. We’ll soon find out, he thought. Parveen drew on his last reserves of energy and dashed down the shaft.

  As he ran, he unshouldered his backpack, rammed a hand into the top, and fished out the magnetic grappler. He slipped his fingers through the eye that usually held the rope. He reached the edge of the shaft and jumped into empty space over the gaping vertical shaft. Halfway across, just as the momentum of his leap was running out, he thumbed the power button of the magnet. The metal disc hummed to life and the power of the magnet dragged him across the rest of the gap, latching on to the opposite wall of the shaft with a loud clang. He dangled there from one arm and looked back across the gap to see if his ploy had been successful.

  The wave of mechanical bugs surged down the shaft in hot pursuit. They were moving so fast and were so intent upon their prey that they failed to register the yawning empty space in their path. The leading edge of the swarm plunged over into the pit, cascading like a chrome waterfall into the darkness. Within seconds, however, their tiny electronic brains registered the danger and the next wave of insects halted on the brink, antennae waving in the air. They clearly sensed that their quarry was close by, but they were thwarted by the empty space in front of them.

  Taking advantage of their momentary confusion, Parveen hauled himself up into the far shaft, clicking off the magnetic grappler and stowing it in his backpack. Sucking down desperate gulps of air, he waited to see what the bugs would do.

  For the moment, they milled about on the verge of the drop, antennae whipping back and forth. They seemed at a loss as to how to get at him. He was sure they would figure something out soon, probably backtracking and finding another way around the obstacle. Parveen gratefully welcomed the opportunity to catch his breath even for a few seconds. He had to decide what to do. He had the plastic explosive, but would he have time and material enough to build a bomb and place it where it might do the most damage?

  He had no time even to contemplate the problem. With a sinking stomach, he watched as one of the metal creatures moved to the edge of the gap and sprang into space. It sailed through the air and fell slightly short. It slammed into the far wall centimetres below the safety of the far side of the shaft.

  As Parveen watched, another insect moved to the edge and leapt. This one was luckier. Its little legs gripped the far edge. Parveen didn’t wait to see if it would succeed. He leapt forward and kicked the creature into the abyss. Now others attempted to leap across the gap, each jump becoming more accurate as they learned. Parveen flailed with his feet and hands, striking the creatures down into the pit. He swung his backpack, knocking the mechanical attackers out of the air. Already exhausted from the long chase, he was tiring quickly. He knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. He prepared for the end.

  The End didn’t come. As suddenly as the attack had started, the creatures ceased throwing themselves across the gap. They stood still as stones, only their antennae waving. They seemed to be receiving new instructions. After a few seconds of utter stillness, they moved.

  Parveen couldn’t believe his eyes. They were leaving! They were moving away along the shaft in the direction from which they’d come. He was safe! He slumped against the wall of the ventilation shaft, letting his backpack fall between his knees. His entire body quivered with exhaustion.

  “Why?” he asked aloud. “Why did they go?” He looked at the shattered bugs around him, smashed by his desperate defence. Wires and circuit boards hung like entrails from the broken bugs. Looking at them, his heart leapt. He reached for the closest one and began tearing the guts out of it, peering at them through his thick glasses. “Yes! Yes! This will do fine.”

  He stuffed three of the shattered bugs into his backpack and trotted off towards the junction he called his home base. He had work to do. The mystery of the retreating bugs would have to wait.

  He was only a few metres from his refuge when he practically ran straight into a maintenance robot trundling along the shaft. He stopped and let the dumb servitor pass. Suddenly, he had an idea. Smiling, he set off after the robot, pulling the last of his precious hamster bombs from his backpack as he closed the distance.

  Chapter 28

  MIMI

  The interior of the house was as disarming as its exterior. The floors were hardwood, lovingly polished and covered with spotlessly clean rugs. On the wall was a framed needlepoint that read “Home Sweet Home.” The visitors crowded into the entry hall. Looking down the hallway past a set of wooden stairs, Mimi saw a neat little kitchen with a table and chairs, a black countertop, and white cupboards. A radio sat on the countertop, a masterpiece of gleaming chrome. Mimi remembered her mother singing along to a very similar radio in their little kitchen in Cross Plains, Texas, when she was a child.

  “Come in, one and all! Have a seat in the parlour. Anywhere you can manage!” The old lady opened two doors with bevelled glass panes to the right of the front door and revealed a parlour furnished in antique chairs and wooden tables that looked as if they could have been featured in a museum.

  “I hope we aren’t taking up too much of your time,” Mr. Kipling said.

  “Not at all.” The old lady smiled, her face wreathed in wrinkles. “I rarely have visitors.”

  “Children.” Mrs. Francis’s voice was oddly detached. “Make sure you wipe your feet.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind. Just sit down and I’ll get everyone some cookies and milk.” The old lady clapped her hands, delighted. “Won’t that be nice?”

  “I’ll help you,” Mrs. Francis said, moving towards the kitchen.

  “No.” The woman’s voice was firm. She looked into Mrs. Francis’s eyes and said, “No. You will sit down right there on the settee. Now.”

  Mrs. Francis nodded absently, doing as she was told.

  “All of you,” the woman said in that same commanding voice, “sit down.” The Guards moved to obey, sitting on a Persian rug that covered the entirety of the parlour floor. They moved with dreamy slowness, as if through liquid. Mimi and Cara joi
ned them.

  Xnasha grabbed them each by the arm. “What are you doing?”

  “Sitting,” Cara said.

  “I want some cookies,” Mimi mumbled.

  “Yes. Cookies for everyone.” The old lady fixed Xnasha with a blue-eyed stare over the top of her bifocals. “Sit.”

  Xnasha felt something in the old woman’s voice tug at her. Obviously, the woman’s voice had some form of hypnotic power. Xnasha didn’t move.

  “Sit,” the old woman said again.

  Xnasha felt the pull again but knew she could resist it. She decided, however, that until she knew what power this old lady had over the others, she would bide her time and wait for her moment. She pretended to be like the others, lethargically slumping to the floor and sitting.

  “Fine. I’ll be right back. Don’t go away now. Don’t move a muscle.”

  Xnasha looked around the room. She had never been inside a surface-dweller’s house before, so she couldn’t be sure if this one was unusual. The furniture was made of dark wood, meticulously polished. On every available surface there were woven circular mats made of white material. She reached over and picked one up. The fabric was soft, the pattern intricate.

  “Admiring my doilies?”86 The old woman was back in the room, carrying a tray laden with little pale brown discs speckled with smaller, darker bits. “I made cookies. I hope you like chocolate chips.”

  The children all reached for the cookies. Even Mr. Kipling and Mrs. Francis grabbed one. Xnasha stayed where she was.

  “What’s the matter? Allergic to chocolate?” The old woman stared at Xnasha.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had chocolate.”

  “I see.” The old lady thrust the tray at her. “Try one.”

  Xnasha looked at the tray, then back at the old woman. “No, thank you.”