The Demon Headmaster and The Prime Minister’s Brain

by Gillian Cross

  That’s what I was going to say, thought Lloyd crossly. He took charge at once, before things could get out of hand. ‘Well done, Ing. That’s what we’ll do. I’ll go this way round the building, with Ian. Mandy, you take Ingrid and Harvey and go the other way. Got your SPLAT notebook?’

  ‘Of course.’ Mandy took it out of her pocket and waved it.

  ‘Good.’ Lloyd nodded. ‘Well, write down everything you see that could be a way in. Even locked doors and tiny windows. Everything. I’ll do the same and then, when we meet at the back, we’ll make a plan. Come on, Ian.’

  It did not take very long. Because there was nothing to write down. Lloyd and Ian walked off to the left and down the side of the building without seeing anything that broke the sweep of the huge mirror panes. Not a single window or door. Not even an air vent.

  As they came round the corner to the back of the building, they saw the others appear from the far side. Lloyd waved his empty notebook at Mandy and turned his thumb down to show how useless it was. Mandy did the same. Nothing on her side either.

  At that very moment they saw it. All together. Not a door, but a wide opening. It led on to a ramp sloping down under the building. They charged towards it and met in the middle, peering down into darkness.

  ‘Of course!’ breathed Mandy. ‘It’s the car park. Do you think there’s a door into the building from down there?’

  ‘Could be,’ Ian said. ‘Shall we risk the terrible darkness and the shadows that lurk in the corners?’ He pulled a horror-comic face. ‘I’ve brought the SPLAT torch.’

  He produced a little plastic flashlight from his pocket and pressed the switch. Nothing happened.

  ‘Should have brought the SPLAT batteries as well,’ murmured Ingrid nastily.

  ‘Oh, give it to me. I bet I can work it.’ Harvey snatched the torch from Ian and began to fiddle with it. After a few seconds, it gave out a pale, feeble light. ‘Told you so.’

  ‘Right then,’ Lloyd said briskly. ‘Here we go. Try not to make too much noise, everyone. I should think there’s a terrible echo in there.’

  It was like going down into a giant cave. As they walked down the ramp, light faded round them and the car park stretched away into the darkness, a vast, empty expanse with a few cars dotted round it.

  ‘We’ll go all the way round the edge,’ Lloyd decided. ‘Then if there’s a lift door or something we’ll be sure to find it.’

  They began a long, slow trek round the dark car park. Their feet echoed loudly on the chilly concrete floor and their whispering voices floated eerily through the shadows, as Harvey swept the torch beam up and down the walls. But there was no sign of any door.

  Then, when they were about three quarters of the way round, they saw a dark hump in front of them, huddled in the next corner. Harvey shone the light towards it and picked out a rounded glass body set on two spindly legs with skis at the bottom. The rotors at the very top sent strange elongated shadows up the wall and the torchlight glinted back off the glass.

  ‘A helicopter!’ said Harvey. He was so surprised that he spoke in a loud squeak that made everyone jump. ‘Look. What a weird thing to find down here.’

  Without waiting for the others, he darted forward at a run. Ingrid followed him and before Lloyd could gather his wits the two of them were pulling themselves up into the helicopter’s cockpit. There was no door to keep them out and they squashed together into the single pilot’s seat, chattering in excited whispers.

  ‘Lloyd!’ Mandy hissed, sounding shocked. ‘You can’t let them do that. Suppose they break something? You’ve got to get them out.’

  ‘Of course I’m going to get them out,’ Lloyd said irritably. Why was everyone so busy telling him how to organize things? Even Mandy was getting bossy now. He marched across to the helicopter, feeling his way along the wall with his fingertips. ‘Harvey! Ingrid! Get out of there!’

  ‘But it’s really interesting—’ began Harvey.

  ‘Come down!’

  ‘You could just have a look—’ Ingrid sounded quite excited, even good-tempered, but Lloyd did not listen.

  ‘Come down at once! How can I organize things if you two just go off and do whatever you want to?’

  ‘But it’s not like that,’ protested Harvey. ‘We thought this might be important and—’

  ‘—and we’ve found something ever so odd—’ Ingrid said.

  ‘—and it wouldn’t take a second if you just—’

  ‘—scrambled up here and had a peep and—’

  ‘Down,’ Angrily, Lloyd reached up, grabbed Harvey round the leg and tugged. ‘We’re not here to play games.’

  Harvey squealed, caught off balance, and lurched wildly. For a second the light in his hand swept out towards the centre of the car park, into the darkness. Then he dropped the torch. It hit the concrete floor with a crunch and the light went out.

  At the same time, Mandy gave a tiny scream and clutched at Lloyd’s arm.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Ingrid said sourly. ‘Afraid of the dark?’

  ‘No,’ whispered Mandy. ‘But I saw people. Tall figures. In the middle there, between the pillars.’

  For a moment there was a horrible, cold silence. Harvey and Ingrid slid out of the helicopter and stood with the others, shivering. Then Lloyd squared his shoulders. After all, he was the leader. ‘Stay here. I’m going to investigate.’

  Slowly he padded across the floor in the direction Mandy had pointed out. As his eyes grew used to the dark, he started to make out the shapes that she had seen. Three of them, very tall and straight and still.

  Very still. Surely people would not be as still as that? And people would be thinner. These shapes were very solid.

  Then, as he came up to them, he saw what they were—not people, but tall metal cylinders. They were about six feet high, on little wheels, and they stood under a sort of overhang like a hood sticking out from the side of the pillar. Lloyd did not need to wonder what they were for. His nose told him.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he called out, trying not to laugh. ‘They’re not people. They’re dustbins. Big ones, like the ones at school.’

  He was just turning to go back to the others when suddenly, from above his head, came a loud WHOOSH! There was a sound of rushing and sliding. Then, from the overhanging hood, a great mass of peelings and empty packets dropped into one of the dustbins.

  And an idea dropped into Lloyd’s head. A disgusting, repulsive, sick-making, brilliant idea.

  ‘Hey, you lot,’ he shouted. ‘Come over here and have a look.’

  ‘Why should we?’ Ingrid called sulkily. ‘We’re not here to play games, you know. You wouldn’t come up and look at our helicopter, so why should we—’

  But Lloyd was feeling so pleased with himself that he did not bother to get angry with her. ‘Oh, shut up, Ingrid, and stop being silly. You’ve all got to come over here. I know how we’re going to get into the building!’

  Ian guessed first. When he reached the dustbins he saw Lloyd standing close beside them, peering up under the hood, and he pulled a face.

  ‘Yuck! You’re joking, of course?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Lloyd said. ‘Here, give me a leg-up. If I climb on top of this bin, I’ll be able to see better.’

  Clambering on to Ian’s shoulders, he gripped the rim of the nearest dustbin and hauled himself up. For a moment he was balancing on his stomach over the edge. He caught a horrible whiff of rotting vegetables, potato peelings, and old tea-leaves and for one ghastly second he thought he was going to overbalance and plunge head first into the middle of it all.

  Then he had pulled himself up and was sitting on the edge of the bin with his legs dangling and his head up underneath the hood.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he called down softly. ‘There’s a chute about eighteen inches wide. I can’t see any light at the top, but it seems to go on a long way. And there must be an opening somewhere, so that people can put the rubbish in. It should be quite easy to climb if I put
my back against one side and walk my legs up the other.’

  Ian coughed politely. ‘Were you—er—thinking of making this trip alone? Or is it going to be a jolly outing for all of us?’

  ‘Of course you’ve all got to come,’ Lloyd said. ‘We’re SPLAT, aren’t we? We’ve got to stick together.’

  ‘You didn’t stick with us when we were investigating the helicopter,’ argued Ingrid. ‘You wouldn’t even listen when we tried to tell you about—’

  ‘Ingrid,’ Lloyd said dangerously, ‘if you don’t shut up about that helicopter, I’ll drag you up here and throw you into the middle of the rubbish!’ The smell from the dustbin was beginning to make him feel peculiar and he wanted to start climbing. ‘Come on, everyone, follow me.’

  He turned his back on them all and stood precariously on the rim of the dustbin. Balancing carefully, he leaned back against the inside of the chute. Then he lifted one leg and planted his foot firmly against the opposite side. Right. Now for the tricky bit.

  ‘Of course,’ murmured Ingrid innocently, ‘if the walls of the chute are too greasy you’ll fall straight into the bin.’

  Lloyd ground his teeth. ‘Of course,’ he hissed, ‘from up here I could spit straight on your head. Be quiet. I’m concentrating.’

  Pressing hard against the sides of the chute, he lifted his second leg and planted that foot beside the first. And there he was, wedged across the opening.

  Carefully he walked his feet up the wall until they were almost level with his body. Pressing his hands backwards on either side of his bottom, he levered his body up another six inches. Then his feet started to walk again.

  It was not exactly difficult, but it was very tiring and he had to concentrate hard. As he got higher, he could hear the others below him, clambering up on the dustbins and then working out how to follow him up the chute. But he could not let himself listen to them. He had to think about levering his body and walking his legs, levering his body and walking his legs, levering his body …

  He had fallen into a rhythm when suddenly he levered his body up, leaned his head back and found the wall giving way behind him. He was so startled that he nearly fell down on top of the others, but just in time he realized what had happened. He had reached one of the openings in the side of the chute. It was covered by a flap, hinged at the top, and it could be pushed open from either side.

  Finding the edges of the opening with his hands, Lloyd gripped them and hauled himself up until he was sitting in the gap, with his legs dangling down. By leaning slightly backwards, he managed to push the flap open a little way with his body, so that he could peer through the opening, over his shoulder, and see what was on the other side of the flap.

  It was the most amazing room he had ever seen.

  For a moment he could not do anything except stare. Then he remembered the others, on their way up. ‘You can come,’ he called softly. ‘It’s quite safe.’ Then he pushed the flap open wider, so that he could study the room properly.

  It was obviously a kitchen. The walls and the floor were very clean and white and shining. From one side to the other stretched row after row of worktops, covered with food in various stages of preparation. There were pots of potatoes, casseroles full of stew, huge dishes of milk pudding.

  But there were no cooks. Instead, long thick rods ran from side to side of the room, just above head height. Attached to the rods were all kinds of mechanical arms. Some of them were stirring, some of them were slicing and some of them were scooping rubbish together. But nowhere was there any sign of a person controlling them.

  Robot arms, thought Lloyd. Like those machines they have in car factories. They must all be run by some sort of computer.

  It was so fascinating that he just gazed and gazed while the others clambered up the chute below him. Enormous saucepans and casseroles were being lifted out of microwave ovens and lined up on the worktops. Then mechanical arms were loading them on to little heated trolleys which ran along rails set in the floor. When the trucks were full, the doors in their sides shut automatically and they ran silently along their rails into a lift on the far side of the room.

  Lloyd was just about to crawl right out of the chute into the kitchen, so that he could investigate the lift more closely, when his eye caught something large moving quickly towards him from halfway across the room.

  A thick, strong metal arm, much longer than the others, was rearing up over the tables. On the end of it was a giant scoop. While Lloyd watched, the scoop skimmed the worktops, collecting all the little heaps of wet, smelly rubbish. Closer and closer it moved—and suddenly Lloyd realized what it was doing.

  ‘Watch out, you lot!’ he shouted downwards. ‘Rubbish!’

  ‘You’re rubbish!’ shrieked Ingrid.

  ‘Get out of the way!’ shouted Harvey.

  ‘Please,’ Mandy added.

  And, from the very bottom of the rubbish chute, Ian bellowed, ‘Hurry up! I can’t bear sitting on this pongy dustbin much longer.’

  There they all were, with their faces turned up and their mouths open as they shouted.

  And when Lloyd looked back at the kitchen, there was the huge scoop, full of tins and packets and peelings and scrapings, poised over the rubbish chute. Slowly tilting …

  8

  The Brains Are Programmed

  Dinah sat very, very still at her desk, hardly daring to breathe. Up at the front of the room, in the middle of the men in white coats, stood the Computer Director. Only now she did not think of him as the Computer Director. Ever since he had reached the front of the room and she had been able to see him, she had known who he really was.

  He was dressed in a spotless white lab coat, without a single crease, and his eyes were covered by thick, pebbly glasses. He looked exactly like his photograph on the posters that Mr Meredith had stuck up at school. But his voice and the way he walked and the way he held his head were all unmistakable. And Dinah knew that if he took off the thick glasses she would find herself gazing into a pair of strange sea-green eyes. Huge eyes, that had the power to hypnotize her, so that she felt she was drowning in their depths. So that she forgot what happened and did everything he told her. The eyes of the Demon Headmaster.

  That was what she had expected, as soon as she guessed who he was. She thought he would start by hypnotizing all the Brains. But she was wrong. Instead, without any introduction or any polite speech of welcome, he had begun to dictate notes in a fast, clipped voice.

  Dinah was so paralysed with fear that she had to make a great effort to pick up her pen and start writing. She was terrified that any noise from her, or any tiny movement, might attract his attention. Then he would recognize her, and—and—she did not know what would happen after that, but she knew it would be horrible. Keeping her head lowered, she scribbled down the notes, trying to concentrate on what the Headmaster was saying.

  ‘You will all have noticed the rows of cabinets round the walls,’ said the cold voice. ‘These are parts of the S-700, the world’s most advanced computer. There are other parts, throughout this building, but this room is the centre. The main control room. It was the S-700’s voice that you heard when you first entered the Sentinel Tower. Among other things, it runs the building.’

  The Brains gasped, awed by the enormous size and power of the S-700. Several of them turned round to gaze at the rows of cabinets, but Dinah stayed hunched in the same position, desperate not to attract attention. And the Headmaster’s voice went on.

  ‘You have, I presume, all brought your S-7s with you, according to instructions. And I imagine that you are not too stupid to work out how to connect them up where you are sitting. As well as being microprocessors on their own, these S-7s are now acting as terminals to the S-700. Each one of you is in contact with the most powerful computer in the world.’

  The most powerful computer in the world. It ought to have been incredibly exciting, Dinah thought miserably. She should have been sitting on the edge of her chair, longing for a chance to use her
terminal. But the only thought in her head was SPLAT. I do want SPLAT. Where could they all have got to?

  It was no use thinking like that! She gave herself a mental prod. She had to keep track of what the Headmaster was saying. He had started to give details of how to operate the S-700. If she didn’t learn those, he would be sure to notice her. Bending over her notebook, she began to scribble at top speed, like all the other Brains.

  And scribble and scribble and scribble. The Headmaster kept pouring out information without waiting for them to understand or ask questions. It took all Dinah’s energy to keep pace with him. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Camilla and Bess were just as breathless, scrambling to make a note of everything. And it seemed that the voice would never stop. On and on it went, with every sentence giving another important fact. On and on and on …

  Until at last, suddenly, the stream of words stopped dead and the Headmaster nodded.

  ‘Right. That covers everything you need to know. In a moment, you will be sent to have your lunch. While you are eating, you should learn these notes. After the meal, you will be starting work on the final stage of the competition and I shall expect you to know everything I have told you. Otherwise, you will be sent home.’

  Giving another brisk nod, he walked quickly down the room towards the lift. Dinah shuddered as he passed her, but he did not look at any of the Brains. He just strode into the lift and slid away.

  ‘Christmas pudding!’ said Camilla breathlessly. ‘You don’t mean he really expects us to learn everything he’s told us do you realize he’s been speaking for two hours and—’

  ‘Silence!’ barked one of the men at the front of the room. ‘No talking until you are sent down to the canteen!’ His voice was dead and expressionless and at the sound of it Dinah shuddered again.

  Then she glanced sideways at Bess, to make sure she was all right. But Bess already had her head bent over her notebook, her lips moving slightly as she began to memorize what she had written.