Mad-Sci-Soc

by Arrand Pritchard

  I was shocked. This was not on my radar.

  “You can't...” I said, breathless.

  “Watch me.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “Naoki has an apartment near to my work. I know she'll let me stay.”

  “But... when? When was this arranged?”

  “Ten seconds ago.”

  “Because of what I said?”

  “Your sarcasm, yes. You have no idea what I've been through.”

  “Terri, wait. Listen. I'm not being sarcastic. I'm sorry if it came out that way. I'm with you on this. I really have learnt a lot in the last few days and today in particular. About you and other stuff. Important stuff. I am starting to see the big picture. Bigger than the fridge thing. Even bigger than Mad-Sci-Soc and the super powers. Super Big.”

  “The big picture has always been there, Aaron. How come you’ve only woken up to it now?” asked Terri, staring at me intently.

  “I didn't understand. How could I have known? You have to give me a chance,” I pleaded.

  “You’ve had plenty of chances, Aaron. Yet you always seem to disappoint,” she said grimly.

  “It is not just about me and you.”

  “Well perhaps it should be!”

  “I'm not talking about love and my petty concerns.”

  “You're not talking about love?”

  “I have always loved you, Terri. From the first time I saw you... even with a broken leg. Ok, that may have been lust or the morphine... but it was love from the hospital onwards. My eyes are open wider now. I see it all. I understand what you've been telling me both directly and indirectly all along but until today it just wasn’t sinking in.”

  “Ok. Cognitive dissonance. We understand the theory but you've cracked it in practise, have you? I'm listening.”

  “I have. This afternoon...” I explained. And I kept talking. Talking about the stolen car, jet packs, Karmen and the computer model, and how Terri and I featured in the computer model to solve the mystery. Finally I arrived at the punchline. “...And Karmen said, with 85% certainty, that Conrad's car is now residing in the basement of the Ms Bell Research Centre over in Brooklyn. And from the price of cheese, to the robbery at the store, to the fridge, to me, to you, there’s just one link...” I paused.

  Terri had listened quietly but when I left the story hanging. She held up her finger for me to stop.

  “Ok,” she said, reclining back in her chair. “I think you get it now.” And, of course, so did she. She probably had known it for a long time, but it was knowledge that could never be uttered because no one would ever believe you; like finding fairies at the bottom of the garden or saying you enjoyed a *hit coffee from a Star Hit cafe.

  We sat in silence for a minute.

  “When are you going to see him?” she asked. Terri knew the consequence of the unspoken revelation.

  “Shortly, I suspect,” I replied. Neither Conrad or Karmen had discussed timescales regarding any visit to meet Max, since there was still the matter of how to confront him with Karmen's easily refuted hypothetical evidence.

  The Auto Taxi had arrived at our apartment.

  Terri leaned forward and held my hand.

  “You have until Valentine's Day. You better not be lying about this big surprise,” she said unsmiling but with the hint of mischief in her voice.

  “I wouldn’t lie!”

  “Remember I’m not a sugar and spice type girl…”

  “Right more like sarcastic and high expectation.”

  “High expectation? Me? I’ve been going out with you!” she teased.

  Even though earlier in the evening, it was just a figment of my imagination, creating that Valentine surprise had just become my number one priority. I grinned back at her. It was as if our brain waves had re-sync-ed and I felt the rush of young love created by the push-me-pull-you roller-coaster of being in a relationship with a manic depressive. Not that Terri ever was, she just behaved like one at times.

  It seemed that there was just one thing was in the way between that feeling and make-up-sex that night.

  “Thank you for your journey. That will be seventeen new dollars, please,” said the robotic voice in the taxi.

  She walked from the taxi with her hips swinging deliberately wide, provocatively... she looked back to see where I was and if I was watching. I was, and it was not helping me as I fumbled for money in the taxi.

  The hint of a smile on her face faded fast.

  I was searching my pockets for cash. Er... no cash. Bank cards? No credit available. Not even credit cards or holoweb-enabled instant short-term loans. The penalty countdown counter activated inside the taxi: the machines were programmed with such a short fuse. I really did not want the hassle of another standard police-drone-scan-and-fine-management procedure and virtual world court appearance. I cursed when I realised that the chances of leveling-up tonight were reducing to zero...

  “Terri, do you have any cash?”

  ***

  Chapter Nine Second Mission

  Friday, January 25, 2123.

  So.... I had some spare time that evening. Terri had gone to bed. Alone.

  I still needed to follow through with this “big surprise” for Valentine's Day. If I did a good enough job, it might just save the relationship. Terri said that she wanted peace, friends and a dog. I guessed the only thing I could offer would be a dog. But a real dog? The commitment! The expense! It would not be practical. Not now that I had become a superhero, I thought conceitedly.

  While the state of my bank account would preclude many types of surprise, I did have the cob webs for advice. I found a website dating back to 2015, over a hundred years ago, and it provided guidance for a good Valentine gifts: Clean House, Cook Dinner... Hmm, I could see a few problems.

  “Clean the house.” Didn't they have robot cleaners in the twenty first century? It must have been a big deal back then. So not suitable.

  “Cook dinner.” Sounded like hard work, with some skill involved. Terri generally ate salad and raw vegetables. I could cut up some carrots and celery and buy some humus from the deli. Seemed somewhat lame though. She also liked cheese but the organic variety would be firmly outside of my purchasing capacity.

  “Have someone else cook dinner.” Not so good. Without money I would have to rely on friends. I couldn't count on Jason so I would have to ask one of my mates at the Home Brew vintage computer club. Since I already had IOUs with most of them, I doubted that would work. Several had already unfriended me on Egospace.

  “Plan a trip and don't say where you're going.” Right... Except for the money angle that would be a good idea.

  “Go to a spa.” That money thing again.

  “Buy tickets for a show.” Money!

  “Compile pictures.” Tried that on her last birthday. It was not a success: old holographic images of my hugging Terri and her looking embarrassed did not engender the expected nostalgia and warmth regarding our relationship.

  “Write a poem.” I could search the cob webs for a good poem and pass it off as my own. Nah, she'd work it out.

  “Make something.” Examples given were pottery, a scarf or a card. The people of the twenty first century sure were talented! I could try to track down an arts and crafts cafe, designed for those lucky souls with time on their hands, money in their pocket and hankering for good old days before robots became a social problem. I would need to exit NY to find such a place though, there's no room for nostalgic thinking in New York.

  “Serenade.” I could sing! I could try one of those old tunes she likes; it worked for me when we first met.

  “Send flowers or a gift to work.” To be successful, a considerable amount of money would be required, so another non-starter.

  “Show up at her work.” And not ask for money. That would be a big surprise! Ha-ha!

  “Striptease.” After what she said about Dameon, I don't think I should try that.

  “Light candles.” Fire hazard! Unrestricted flames in h
ouses and no collision detection in trucks and cars? It must have been like practising extreme sports every day back in 2015.

  “Massage.” Hmm, yes! Not exactly a big surprise for Terri though. I have always been keen to give Terri a massage. I may seem rather strange if I tell you this but her skin is the smoothest, softest skin I have ever come across. She ought to do commercials for skin care products.

  That was the end of the Valentine suggestions list.

  How about, I thought, I turn up at at her work, serenade her with her work mates doing backing vocals, a kind of flash mob? Then offering her a hand-made pottery vase, holding flowers I had picked that day from Brooklyn Botanic and a card. A handmade card that I had made containing a beautiful poem and a voucher for free massages? That's “big”, right?

  I entered “dissonance” (Terri had used the term earlier) and “poem” into my search engine and extracted the following from the cob webs. It seemed suitably erudite.

  “Pussy-footing with a bronze medallion.

  Betwixt a wish for a Spanish galleon.

  Dissonance is in her face;

  But crying for the yesteryear;

  The calling of time to save her breed, is rippling through the star spangled banner.

  Awkward people running from laughter;

  Where angels tread to silent disaster;

  Empty trees, shivering in the wind;

  Falling leaves, sinking in sin;

  Singing songs of rugged raindrops, splashing through grey auburn hair.”

  The alliteration should stun her.

  I copied an art nouveau motif design onto a piece of card, (I always had a lot of card knocking around to maintain my cardboard box collection), and wrote the poem with my best hand writing inside, I had to write it in capitals. Ok, my first job was complete: the valentine card was ready.

  ***

  Saturday, January 26, 2123.

  It seemed my lazy morning lie-ins would be a thing of the past now I had adopted this Psychic Kid persona. I did not think that I was going to be doing it full time and be called upon at unsocial hours. It was 9am when I was woken from my solitary sofa slumber with a call from Conrad.

  “You need to download the Su-U app,” he shouted seemingly out of breathe. There was a lot of wind noise on the line. I wondered where he was.

  “Oh ok,” I replied sleepily.

  “We have a CAT event in progress.”

  “Hey, what happened to the supercomputer crime prediction?”

  “It wasn't predicted. It's outside our usual parameters. CATLOC upper east side: Major disturbance by a giant robot.” He said “Giant Robot” loudly and clearly.

  “Giant robot?” I exclaimed. I was thinking, isn't that the usual situation for the climactic scene of a Japanese Anime?

  Conrad confirmed, “Giant robot!”

  “This is only my second mission! Do you think I should be taking on giant robots?”

  “Get ready. I'll be there in one minute.”

  That explains the wind noise. He was jet packing his way over.

  I ripped open my rucksack where I stowed my PK costume and equipment and threw on my kit.

  The doorbell rang before I had finished. It was Conrad. I opened the door, while still hopping trying to put my PK boots on. Despite my instability, Conrad shoved a jetpack into my hands.

  “No Terri?” he said breathlessly.

  “No,” I said, standing back up. “She would have already gone to work.” And in any case, Terri and I had an unwritten rule never to even look at each other in the mornings.

  “Even on a Saturday?”

  “She works in retail.”

  Conrad nodded.

  The jet pack was now strapped on.

  “Are we ready to go?” I asked.

  “No fuel left in my pack. Karmen will meet you at CATLOC. I'll follow with drone-vision. Can I... er, set up base in your living room?”

  “Uh? Sure!”

  After Conrad provided some further encouragement, I engaged the device and blasted away.

  ***

  Saturday, January 26, 2123.

  It was a bright, clear, cold day. Perfect for jet pack flight and flying the jet pack to CATLOC was easy anyway. A route was projected into my visor like it was arcade video game. And just like a video game I could chat to my fellow players; Conrad, Karmen and I conversed over the headsets.

  “I've negotiated with the department and we have an exclusive on this event. Camera drones are swarming to the area,” said Conrad.

  “I can see the target,” stated Karmen.

  “What is it?” asked Conrad.

  “It's a giant robot of some kind. Very primitive. Nodular.” she said.

  “Nodular?” I asked.

  “It's built up from nodules,” she said.

  “Modules, perhaps?” I said.

  “Take a look,” she said and shared her video stream.

  The three stories high, headless robot was walking nonchalantly down a street kicking a car along like a tin can. Karmen was able to get a clear view of the thing walking past a low-rise mall. It did look primitive except for its seemingly swollen joints and the rectangular patchwork across the system, giving it a slightly arts and crafts, hand-made feel. Then I recognised what each rectangular module consisted of.

  “It's built with fridges!” I said.

  “Fridges? Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure.”

  “Activate your super vision, PK,” said Conrad.

  “How do I do that?”

  “Say, Activate super vision. Use gesture control to zoom in and zoom out.”

  “Activate super vision.” I said and my visor directed me towards the target. I had a brief view of the robot disappearing behind a building.

  “Drones are in place. We have plotted its course. Providing it doesn't deviate we can land in front of it and test its strength.”

  ***

  Saturday, January 26, 2123.

  We landed and shrugged off our jet packs. Karmen and I strode into the street. The robot was just over a block away. It looked really big, taller than a McSquirrel Logo Pylon. It felt all the bigger because I did not have any weapons that would make any impression on this monster. All I had were darts!

  “Ideas, please!” I said.

  “I'll blast it with an electrical bolt,” said Improbileon confidently.

  “It won't work,” I said.

  “It won't?” She said suddenly losing her confidence.

  “Terri and I shorted out the apartment building trying to stop our rogue fridge with electricity.”

  “Fridge?”

  “It's bit of a long story. I'm just saying, I bet it won't work.”

  “Shall I try anyway?”

  “You could, I guess. It might make it angry. How about your force field? Knock out its legs?”

  “PK, is right,” said Conrad over the headset. “Take out the legs with the force field.”

  Karmen walked forward and lined her arm up to where she expected the robot's left leg would land. She braced herself, arms outstretched and loosed the weapon.

  Ka-boom! One the fridge doors protecting the robot knee flew open but immediately sprang shut.

  The blast had little effect except to re-direct the Robot in our direction.

  “Try the electrical bolt,” commanded Conrad.

  Ph-zak!

  The electrical bolt, as I predicted, made no difference. The robot was nearly upon us.

  “Retreat!” said Conrad.

  But we already were.

  We ran back to the jet packs in the side alley. While the robot could not fit down the alley and did not seem to want to smash its way to us, it could still throw things at us. It tried some industrial bins before sending a small car towards us. Karmen deflected these minor masses with her force field while I screamed. Fortunately I was on mute. When the job seemed completed to the robot's satisfaction, it resumed its mission, whatever that was, and headed down the street.

&
nbsp; Karmen and I were pressed firmly against the wall and we could feel, from decreasing vibrations, that the robot was moving away.

  “Conrad, have you a plan?” asked Karmen, in that polite tone known only to librarians.

  “I've called the military. Rendezvous back downtown. You should survey the crime scene first. Can you measure the footprints?”

  “Very well.”

  ***

  Saturday, January 26, 2123.

  Several hours later I returned to the apartment, sweaty, carrying my costume in yet another back pack and feeling lucky to be alive.

  Terri was eating popcorn on the sofa and watching mainstream news.

  The newscaster was saying, “...due to the intervention by the mayor, the giant robot was eventually tracked down by military aircraft and destroyed. No thanks to the new super-zeroes, Queen Improbable and the Slip-up Kid who, after an awkward debut a few days ago, made no impression at all upon the marauding monster.”

  Terri switched off the broadcast as it started a replay of the trips and somersaults from our previous job accompanied with cartoon music and sound effects.

  I spread my arms to invite comment. I wasn't too sure what sort of welcome I would receive from her.

  “Are you ok?” she asked mechanically.

  “Physically in one piece. Self esteem in many, many pieces. We were smoked! And worse than that. We've had hate mail.”

  “That happens a lot,” Terri consoled.

  “The hate mail was from Bat Guy and Nerdifer.”

  “Ouch. But physically in one piece. That's good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So the robot... ?”

  “We believe it was full of cheese.”

  “Filled with cheese?”

  “Conrad is analysing a sample.”

  “And?”

  “It's life, Jim. But not as we know it.”

  Terri raised her eyes. “And that's from the robot?”

  “Captured from the crime scene. Despite what the Mayor and the newscast said, the military never found the robot,” I said sardonically.

  “So the news report was to stop panic in the city?”

  “Yes. Apparently.”

  “So the robot disappeared where?”

  “Yes. The Police drone-net failed to spot it.”

  “So what's next?”

  “A bath.”

  ***

  Chapter Ten Terri's Memories

  Friday, January 10, 2118.

  Terri woke up with a start! Coughing, choking, water pouring from her mouth. She started to thrash about and swim. But she was not in water. She was on an operating table, covered by a medical gown. Her eyes sprung wide open and she became aware of the bright lights. She groaned, coughed and thrashed around further.