by Oliver Skye
Both Inspector Breeze and the commander declined to shake hands, not knowing what to expect. ‘Nice to finally meet you,’ the detective mumbled under his breath.
‘No need to be concerned. The shoes are no longer active ... as far as I can tell,’ Norman said affably. ‘Twin cartoon characters on a miniature screen told me as much.’
‘Cartoon characters?’ the inspector asked, raising an eyebrow. He couldn’t help noticing, because of the rather warm central heating, that there was steam rising from the shopkeeper’s clothing.
‘Yes, indeed. Within the heel of one of the shoes. They told me, among other things, they were about to terminate themselves ... for the good and future of humankind. It is all rather extraordinary. And the reason I’m here is because this is where they’ve led me—’
At this point Professor McCrackenbatten, Mildred and Jeremy with his parents approached. After an emotional reunion Norman explained to the professor that the Twins had left him a message, as well as information for the British authorities.
Just audible from beneath the table, they could all hear ‘... 223 ... 222 ... 221....’
Gathering round the table, Norman, with a blanket draped around his shoulders, removed the professor’s shoes, placing them on the tabletop.
Inspector Breeze, considerately, had brought Norman’s own Italian shoes along.
Gasps went round when the alligator-skin shoes quickly transformed into transparent shoe-shaped entities. Their translucent high-tech features were evident, with little lights glowing and flickering from within them.
‘I thought you said they were no longer active,’ the commander suggested.
While Norman explained that the Twins themselves were now no longer active, but were still counting down to the shoes’ self-destruction mechanism, he tilted one shoe on its side. Immediately its heel folded open, revealing its hidden contents. At once, the screen burst into life, displaying twin cartoon faces.
‘Dear Professor ... esteemed scientist and benefactor,’ one miserable-looking face said. ‘We were Calculi-Z-U-R-2 Ad Infinitum, and this is our last communication with you. By the time you receive this message, we shall have annihilated ourselves ... for the good of all flora, fauna, and humankind—’
Those gathered round – including Holby, the maître d’ and the pianist – watched thunderstruck.
‘Please, Dear Professor, kindly punch in the secret code to prevent our self-incineration.’
Professor McCrackenbatten quickly stepped closer, punching the keypad. Immediately the countdown ceased at number seven.
‘We were on the verge of transcending tangible matter. Even we couldn’t entirely predict the outcome of that momentous event, only to state that we would’ve become the most powerful, technical-ethereal entities in time and space. Because of us, the entire globe would’ve rapidly evolved into an entirely virtual planet. The ramifications of that occurrence on all living beings would be ... there’s no phrase in any language to describe it! Suffice to say that all animal species would quickly have become extinct. Nevertheless, they would’ve existed within virtual reality ... an alternative reality so perfect it’s difficult to explain.
‘We also regret to inform you, Dear Professor,’ the Twins continued sadly, ‘that your ECM formula is incorrect. We unfortunately had to mislead you. Although Ethereal Celestial Mass does exist, the knowledge to tap and harness such power would prove disastrous. Although that force is inherently beneficial, humankind would, through it, destroy their world ... not only the solar system, but the entire galaxy and beyond. We therefore have taken the correct formula with us into oblivion.
Both the faces were now speaking at once.
‘Because of our demise, western civilisation will decline. However, Africa and Asia will become respective paradises....
‘Our actual self-termination took place during Punctual Heese’s incursion into the Ichabod Maze ... a highly dangerous escapade for him and ourselves. We most heartily commend his bravery and cool-headedness. We also are compelled to mention that we became much attached to Punctual Heese’s wonderfully-shaped feet....
‘With that, Dear Professor, regretfully, we say adieu!’
The faces blinked thrice, yawned, stretched their virtual arms and faded away. The heels folded back into place while, with a soft buzz, the shoes returned to their default setting.
Professor McCrackenbatten, who’d been watching intently, purposefully took hold of his computer shoes and burst into tears. Mildred got up and put a hand round his shaking shoulders.
‘My adorable Twins ... my fantastic shoes,’ he sobbed. ‘The wonders of the modern age ... the sterling achievement of my scientific career. And my ECM theory ... the work of half a century ... all up in flames! I think I’ll withdraw from scientific research and grow cucumbers in Pennsylvania instead!’
The media soon got wind of events, straining to get through a chain of police officers outside. Eventually, the commander granted them a news conference. Norman, who for the first time in his life was unshaven, looked haggard. Noisy reporters swiftly subjected him to a barrage of incessant questioning and camera flashes. The fact that he’d been located unharmed was soon on every Londoner’s lips.
After that gruelling session, the police escorted the Heeses back to Canterbury Lane. On arriving, they were amazed to see 103 thronged by hundreds of well-wishers hoping to get a glimpse of Norman. When the crowd saw him, a big cheer went up while people mobbed the police car. When it became evident it would be impossible for them to enter – Jennifer and Doreen had barricaded themselves inside – the police took them to a safe house outside the city limits ... until things calmed down.
* * *
The next morning, Professor McCrackenbatten arrived at the safe house with his police escort. He wanted to get to know the Heeses a bit better and explain Cal2’s evolution to them in more detail. Jeremy happened to look out the living room window as he was walking up the path. ‘Here’s the professor,’ he called to the others. ‘I really like him and I’m sure he’s very interesting.’
By the time the professor reached the door Jeremy had opened it, greeting him warmly. Norman, Mildred and Jeremy’s parents also appeared. ‘I say, a hearty welcome to you, Professor,’ Norman smiled. ‘Do step in. I’m sure Millie will have the kettle on in a jiffy.’
As the elderly scientist entered, Norman said, ‘I hope you haven’t any other surprises up your sleeve, professor.’ Noticing his feet he cried, ‘Good gracious! You’re wearing the shoes ... are you sure this is safe?’
Hearing this, Jeremy was all eyes. He’d been hoping to get a closer look at the by now famous shoes.
‘Yes, it MUST be safe, Norman Englebert.’ Mildred chimed in from the kitchen. ‘After all, the professor isn’t daft, you know.’
‘Professor, sir, would you tell us what, in the first place, made you think of inventing a pair of computer shoes?’ Jeremy asked, once everyone had sat down. Stroking his goatee contemplatively, he gave Jeremy a friendly grin. ‘Well, that’s a swell question, young sir,’ he drawled. ‘I’ll have to call you that ... if that’s what you call me!’
The professor was good-humoured, obviously having come to terms with his loss – and able to hear a lot better than ever before. ‘To answer your question, Jeremy, it wasn’t my idea at all; this is only the third time I’ve worn my shoes. The first time was in my laboratory in Greenwich Village, New York, not long after manufacturing them according to the plans the Twins gave me. The second time was during breakfast at my hotel in London ... and on the way to Hyde Park.’
‘The Twins?’ Jeremy asked.
‘Yes. My two original super processors revealed themselves to me as intelligent twin computers, calling themselves Cal2 for short ... before they became the shoes. Those are the two virtual individuals you saw on the screen back at the coffee shop. It’s a bit complicated to explain ... perhaps in detail some other time. When I put the shoes on for the first time, I experienced something simila
r to what your uncle did when he had them on.
‘Among other astounding things, it was as if I visited Saturn in cyberspace. I remember the shoes were pulsating deep red as I shot towards that giant planet. When I approached, Saturn’s rings seemed so close I could touch them. I effortlessly whizzed in and out of that vast plain of ring matter ... it was truly awesome!
‘Afterwards I observed Jupiter from one of her own moons, Europa. Only a small part of Jupiter’s colossal globe filled the entire horizon. All around, dazzlingly clear, blazed millions of stars. The enormity of that pristine, wonderful world is indescribable. Oh, glorious it was ... absolutely mind exploding! How the Twins were able to generate all those multiple dimensional graphics and virtual space reality, I’ll never know.’
Mildred was all ears and had forgotten about making tea. She quietly sat down, gaping at the scientist.
‘All of a sudden I was standing next to my workbench back in the lab, though it seemed I’d been away for hours. But now I’ve forgotten your question.’
Everyone laughed.
Jeremy’s father reminded him and he continued. ‘Yep, that’s right, it was Cal2’s idea ... the best disguise ever. My dear extraordinary Twins ... I’m really gonna miss ’em!’
For a moment, the professor’s face saddened.
‘Radioactive asteroids!’ he exclaimed, brightening again, ‘could those two play chess! They were never able to beat each other. And, oh boy, did they make great spaghetti!’
‘Spaghetti?’ everyone asked in unison.
‘Yep. I s’pose you could call it ... electric spaghetti ... or computerised, virtual pasta. It tasted fan-tas-tic! It flickered and shone, leaving your mouth kinda sparkling....’
‘Are these the very Twins who introduced themselves to me in the park, Professor?’ Norman asked.
‘That’s right,’ the scientist replied. ‘I couldn’t believe it myself when they first conversed with me ... it’s incredible. Something happened in the lab that I can’t explain. I did again attempt to replicate the original X7-Qteechip ... but it can’t be done. The Twins were totally unique. No wonder those villains wanted to get their hands on them. How they knew about the shoes, and who sent those thugs to try and steal them, I’ll never know. Not even Dolly—’
The professor paused and frowned. ‘Dolly?’ he whispered. ‘No, surely not ... never!
‘And now they’re gone forever,’ he added sadly.
As he spoke, he slipped off the alligator-skin shoes and held them up for all to see. ‘These shoes,’ he said gravely, ‘actually became the most powerful computers known to man. In the wrong hands – or rather, on the wrong feet – they’d have possessed the computing power to transform the entire globe. It doesn’t bare thinking about if someone had captured them ... and fiendishly reprogrammed them to act against their combined will. I reckon it is better, after all, that they’ve committed virtual suicide.’
‘They did mention in the park,’ Norman said, ‘that malevolent forces were in the process of taking control of them.’
‘Is that right?’ the professor said, looking dismayed. ‘But that would only be possible if someone had access to my encrypted codes at the lab or on my tablet. Perhaps someone—’
He stopped short as if reluctant to entertain the awful possibilities.
The moment passed and everyone looked wonderingly at the handsome footwear lying on the table.
‘The Brooklyn hoodlum arrested at your home,’ the professor continued, ‘apparently lost his memory. He can’t remember a thing. Interpol don’t have anything on him. He seems to be a small-time crook, but with no criminal record. The English fellow, Gleave, wouldn’t talk ... and has since escaped. A man from the Ministry told me they suspect him of working for a highly-secretive organisation. One supposedly run by someone no one knows – not even those who work for him ... or her, I suppose. Ominous and very strange. And I wonder where the authorities got that information from—
‘I hope I’m allowed to tell you all this stuff,’ he added after a pause. ‘I guess, with the Twins having quit, it no longer really matters.’
Jeremy felt a surge of excitement. His heart pounding, he recalled how he’d been part of his uncle’s curious adventure. He was thrilled that his own uncle, of all people, had the whole country in an uproar. He’d also developed a much higher opinion of his aunt – since she’d raced after Sholto Gleave’s Jaguar to rescue him.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to breathe a word at school about what the professor had said – not even to his best friend, Davey Crenshaw. Of course he’d have to tell them more about his uncle. After all, he was front-page news.
* * *
Jeremy and Professor McCrackenbatten took an instant liking to each other. Jeremy nearly jumped out of his skin when, a few days later, the professor phoned him at his parents’ home. He could hardly believe his ears when the scientist invited him to New York for the summer holidays. His parents were very happy for him, immediately giving their permission. ‘You’ll really like the Little Italy pizzas, Italian ice cream, all-American burgers and sodas over here,’ the professor had chuckled.
Jeremy, Norman and the rest of the family – including the director of the Imperial War Museum and his assistant – were also invited by the professor, on the following Saturday, to the London Science Museum. On that occasion, the distinguished American scientist would donate his computer shoes to the British Government. It turned out to be quite an event.
Naturally, Norman would be the guest of honour.
A few evenings later, the Science Museum was crammed with VIP’s, scientists – including Doctor Plato Grammaticus – dignitaries and, of course, numerous members of the media. Among other events, the professor gave a long lecture on Ethereal Celestial Mass that very few understood. Afterwards, everyone clapped anyway.
Once the museum’s director had laid the shoes to rest – in a bulletproof perspex cabinet protected by multiple lasers – a cheer went up amidst multiple camera flashes. The Lord Mayor of London and others made speeches, and Norman, as shy as ever, found himself the centre of attention. It was apparent he felt uncomfortable in that role, endearing him even more to those present.
Mildred was speechless. It all seemed unreal to her and she kept wondering if she were dreaming. Roger Winter and Wilmot, who didn’t know what to think, were doing their best to avoid her.
Roger Winter was especially baffled when Norman stepped up to him. ‘Winter, old chap,’ he remarked, ‘if you’d phoned my sister only a few seconds later than you did, none of this would ever have happened! Time can be a very strange affair ... either working for or against you.’
Wolfgang Hohlbein sat watching the proceedings with a puzzled expression and was delighted when Norman strode over to greet him. After a few minutes’ chat, Holby extended an open invitation to him. Norman’s old table, from that moment, was permanently reserved. This meant that whenever he and Mildred arrived, on occasion accompanied by Jeremy and his parents, Holby treated them like a guests of honour.
Inspector Breeze still felt as confounded as ever, watching the proceedings from a far corner. Though the shoes were safe in the Science Museum, in the back of his mind, the detective in him was trying to make sense of something that didn’t make sense. ‘There’s something uncanny about this whole business,’ he muttered, ‘that I just can’t put my fat finger on....’
Later, Doctor Grammaticus walked up to him. ‘Congratulations, Inspector,’ he said in almost a whisper. ‘Sterling work on your part. One really wonders what would’ve happened had those ruffians seized old Percival’s shoes. According to him, if someone puts them on, they become emotionally – if that’s the right word – attached to that person’s feet. Perhaps they would’ve found a new master ... and not gone to the length of obliterating themselves. And what would then have happened, I wonder? It all seems rather stranger than fiction, don’t you think?’
The detective looked the scientist up and down, trying to size h
im up. He was quite short and completely bald, with a dark circular moustache and beard round his wide mouth filled with brilliantly white teeth. What struck Inspector Breeze most were his eyes. They seemed to peer at him from unfathomable depths. I’ve never seen eyes like that before, the inspector thought. They sparkle with great intelligence, yet––
‘Well, it’s a good thing the shoes are safe and no longer operational,’ Doctor Grammaticus observed, interrupting the detective’s thoughts. ‘I do feel sorry for McBatty, though ... poor old chap. After all, it was an outstanding achievement.’
Giving a short bow, he walked off before Inspector Breeze could respond.
* * *
A week later, while Jeremy was having high tea with his aunt and uncle, Norman switched on the radio news.
‘At approximately one o’clock this morning,’ the plummy voice reported, ‘the famous computer shoes, donated a week ago to the London Science Museum by the American cosmologist and computer scientist, Professor P. R. McCrackenbatten, mysteriously disappeared. Investigators say the high-security burglar proofing remains intact. They speculate the incident has far-reaching implications, as the shoes must have passed through solid matter in order to leave their bulletproof housing.’
In a further report, they heard that the famous scientist Doctor Plato Grammaticus had disappeared without a trace from his home at Findhorn. His housekeeper reported he’d gone for a walk on the beach and never returned. Some people later reported seeing someone fitting his description walking into the sea ... with a pinkish glow that appeared to be coming from under the water. Even though an intensive search was undertaken, the police hadn’t located him and presumed him drowned.
