The Imagination Box

by Martyn Ford

  “And what’s the other prong of this attack?” Tim asked.

  “We have to destroy his underground desert facility.”

  “That’s where the Imagination Space is,” Tim said. “But my castle…”

  “Think about it. That’s also probably where his machine is. What do they call it? The mind board? That’s probably his base of operations. The complex is huge—we’ve only seen a portion of it. What about all those hidden areas? Huh? All those labs…”

  “And Samantha and Phil?”

  “Well, we can try and find them too, or after. Assuming they’re not dead already.”

  “You can say it in a softer way, Dee. You don’t need—”

  The familiar zip-pop sound came from the secret room, and a moment later, Fredric entered. He stepped in front of the window, silhouetted by the tiny specks of light, like stars, stretching off behind him. Tim swallowed. The stitch he’d had earlier when running had somehow returned.

  “I’m so pleased you guys made it,” Fredric said with concern that could be mistaken for being genuine. For a moment, Tim didn’t know what to think.

  Frederic suggested they come to Nevada with him, as they’d be “safe” there. And so, wondering if this trip might be one-way, they followed Fredric across the globe in an instant.

  —

  Once they arrived in the control room of the desert facility, Fredric seemed to relax. Again, Tim hoped, even wished, that there were some other reason for him denying involvement with IcoRama.

  “If what you guys say is true,” Fredric said, pulling a stick of pink bubble gum from a silver packet, pointing with it as he spoke, “then we’ll need to tread carefully. If he is using phones, his reach could be…infinite.” He put the piece of gum in his mouth, flicking the wrapper into the bin.

  Shielding his eyes from the pseudo sunlight, Tim stepped to the window of the Imagination Space and stared past the treetops, sweeping to the right to see the long path across the grassy plain that led to his castle. He remembered the awesome afternoons, the hours he, Dee, and Phil had spent in there—the rich world he’d watched flourish from his mind. Had it all been part of Fredric’s trick?

  “Why don’t you two head down there,” Fredric said, noticing Tim’s gaze. “Take your mind off all this. Make a new roller coaster or something. Jetpacks, maybe. Whatever you want. I’ve got some phone calls to make, things to clear up.”

  “Why not,” Tim said, grabbing his backpack.

  Downstairs, they clunked the door open and stepped inside. Tim pressed the thin metal reader onto his head, and they strolled in among the palm trees where they were sure they were out of anyone’s earshot. The light dimmed, the temperature dropped, Tim’s mind subconsciously adding the weather of home to the formerly majestic, tropical space.

  “Why does he want us in here?” Dee asked. “I don’t like this at all.”

  “Maybe, because while I’m wearing this”—Tim tapped the metal reader—“he knows where I am.”

  “It takes data readings,” Dee said. “But…he can’t track me.”

  “Exactly.”

  Tim led her through the woodland, past the glowing butterflies and dancing dandelion seeds. The barbershop birds were singing a somber song now, as though they knew something had changed. They arrived at the base of Tim’s castle. He looked up, past his creation, and now really noticed the edges of the room—the metal struts above that reminded him of an aircraft hangar. The whole place felt more fake than ever, like a movie set. On the long garden table, one of the zappers Tim had been using to fine-tune things was waiting. He passed it to Dee.

  “Take this. Use it to blast open any locked doors,” he told her. “If Samantha and Phil are here, they’re probably in the lower rooms. Find them.”

  Dee had said it was possible they’d been brought here, perhaps to be used as a bargaining tool if need be. It was just a theory, but well worth exploring. They had to ensure that they were safe before attempting to destroy the place.

  “And if I do?” she asked.

  “Get them out and make for the surface,” Tim said.

  “Can’t we just teleport?”

  “The only places you can get a signal are the control room and high up,” Tim said. “Sadly, we’re just going to have to escape the old-fashioned way. I’ll meet you up top, once I’ve dealt with Fredric.”

  “How are you going to do that?” Dee said.

  “I’m going to have a civilized conversation with him, get him to confess, and I’m going to secretly film it, and then, when we’re high enough for signal, post the footage online.”

  “Clever.”

  “Two-pronged attack,” Tim said. “You save them. I’ll do the rest.”

  “How will you escape afterwards?”

  “I’ll work something out.”

  “But—”

  “Just go.”

  Tim thickened the foliage at the top of the trees near the high viewing window, just in case Fredric was looking down, as Dee made for the door. She snuck out of sight and Tim, now alone, sighed to himself.

  He then created a camera and microphone interwoven into his shirt. Feeling the warm plastic against his chest reminded him of Phil, but he couldn’t get distracted by sentiment.

  The plan was relatively simple: find out Fredric’s involvement in all this and then, if necessary, destroy this entire complex with the Imagination Space—once everyone had got out safely. He’d need to keep the reader and remotely conjure unfathomable amounts of fire, or something equally as devastating, in here.

  Really, Tim thought, as he placed his backpack on the long table, there were three prongs to this attack….

  It was going to be tricky. In fact, he realized, growing more doubtful by the minute, it was pretty much impossible to do this alone; he would somehow need to be in two places at the same time….

  A few minutes later, Fredric appeared near the entrance of the Imagination Space and called him over.

  “Tim,” he yelled—it echoed. “Come up to the control room, we need to talk.”

  Yes, we do, Tim thought. He hesitated, looking through the ferns, past the flower beds, all the way to the castle. “All right, just a sec.”

  Glancing back, Tim saw Fredric standing, waiting for him.

  As he approached, Tim reached into his pocket and was pleased to find the metal reader. The camera he had made was recording, its lens embedded in his shirt button. He pictured what the footage might look like—shot low, juddering and amateur, but good enough.

  “Where’s Dee?” Fredric asked, checking over Tim’s shoulder.

  “She’s just…she’s just gone up to the castle,” he lied. “Want me to get her?”

  “No, no. She can’t go far, can she?”

  As they arrived in the control room, Fredric turned to Tim and smiled. He pulled out a seat and placed it next to his desk, then slumped down into his swivel chair. “Where’s your Imagination Box?” he asked, noticing Tim wasn’t wearing his reader hat or carrying his backpack.

  “I left it on the table outside the castle,” Tim said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyway, what’s…what’s our next move?”

  They were sitting in a soft orange light, a distorted rectangular beam glowing from the Imagination Space. Their shadows were long on the wall to Tim’s right—the angle and his height made Fredric’s loom above, halfway to the ceiling.

  “You tell me, man,” he said. “You’ve done most of the hard work. So, when did you figure it out?”

  “Figure what out?” Tim was testing the water—there was still room for doubt. A place in his heart still wanted Fredric to have a reasonable excuse for everything.

  “When did you realize it was the phones?”

  “Oh. Dee told me she’d been playing on her IcoRama in the bathtub,” Tim said. “Her mum told her she couldn’t, in case she dropped it in the water. Like the very first man who chased me. He leapt into the river; then he snapped out of it. Broken phone. The Mind Surfer’s fi
rst mistake.”

  “Ah, yeah,” Fredric said. “Of course…the suited dude. On reflection, what a strange choice of target for whoever is behind this.”

  “What do you mean?” Tim asked.

  “Come on, a man with a bowler hat and a black umbrella? Doesn’t that just scream secret agent? Almost too obvious, isn’t it?”

  Only now that he said it did Tim remember the afternoon clearly. The concussion had wiped the memory of what the man who chased him through the market had been wearing. He nodded, feeling a strange sadness in his gut—a sensation similar to the fall of his roller coaster. Now he was sure. One hundred percent sure. Dee had been right.

  Fredric Wilde was a liar.

  “What’s wrong?” he said, chewing on his bubble gum.

  “I never told you he had a bowler hat and umbrella,” Tim said.

  Staring into those blue-gray eyes, Tim saw through—past the gloss and promises—to the truth inside. It was like looking down into the screen of an IcoRama phone.

  For a long while, Fredric sat in silence, squinting briefly. He rubbed his earlobe, then looked around the control room. Somehow, Tim managed to keep a poker face. The fact he was recording this conversation made him sweat. A drip tickled his hairline and he scratched it away.

  Fredric leaned back in his chair and blew a large bubble, which popped loud. All the while he smiled. All the while enjoying himself.

  “It’s you,” Tim said. “You’re the Mind Surfer.”

  Fredric tapped the desk with his knuckle and stood, his shadow riding past the ceiling now, curving over.

  “Well done, Tim,” he said, turning his palms, exposing them to the warm, artificial sunlight. “You got me.”

  The control room was silent. Tim didn’t really know what to say next—he was surprised how ready Fredric was to admit it.

  “So it’s true. You’ve been controlling people?”

  “I’m not a fan of the pseudonym,” Fredric said. “But, yeah, long story short, yeah, man. I have. Now that you know, you are aware that I’ve got to file you away, right?” He calmly removed his black zapper from his pocket. “First, put the reader on the table.”

  Tim did as he said. The metal crown clinked onto the wood in the center of the long, stretched patch of light. His mouth was dry, his heart thudding audibly against his ribs, making the camera beneath his shirt lift and drop.

  “Farewell, Tim,” Fredric added, taking aim. “It’s been a blast.”

  “Wait,” Tim said. He knew that whatever happened, it was crucial he get a full, comprehensive confession on tape. “At least…at least tell me why.”

  Fredric pouted, then lowered the zapper. “Hey, no harm in that. What do you want to know?”

  “None of it makes any sense. I…I just don’t understand.”

  “Right,” Fredric said. “From the top. I was there, in Glassbridge. I listened to Eisenstone’s ‘There is a box’ speech, when he explained the concept. So exciting, so revolutionary. Genius, really. A gadget that can create anything…You know what I felt, sitting there at the back, hearing about the technology? I felt terrified.”

  “Why?”

  “I built my entire career—my entire life—on selling things to people. That’s how our society works, Tim. Consumer capitalism is the reason you’re alive, it’s the reason for Western civilization as we know it. Can you imagine what would happen if everyone had an Imagination Box? Money would become obsolete, overnight. And then what?”

  “So, you created the mind board?”

  “Yeah, I designed a device that could transmit thoughts into other people’s heads. Something you know well…Clarice Crowfield and Professor Whitelock did a very similar thing with you. On the shoulders of giants. That’s why I leased this facility from TRAD. It had to be well out of the way. And on top of that, working with them helped get me close—I could see the agency’s weak points.”

  “Why cell phones?”

  “I quickly realized I would need a network of devices that would send signals to people’s brains. IcoRama 2020 phones were in development, but the business was struggling, so I purchased the company and modified the design slightly. I started small, obviously, getting people to do silly things, for my own entertainment. At first people resisted. It caused riots. But then I refined it and it functioned like a charm. People ran to the shops to panic-buy carrots, various products, even more phones. No matter what happened with Eisenstone’s technology, I knew I could get people to keep buying things.”

  “Seems a bit over-the-top to me, controlling everyone just to steal stuff. Wasn’t that a risk?”

  “The brazen, the audacious, these are the crimes that no one notices. Steal some candy and you’ll land yourself in all kinds of trouble, but walk out confidently with a flat-screen TV, you can get away with that.” Fredric was still smiling.

  Tim was squinting, his brow furrowed. “And you killed people who got too close to the truth?”

  “Come on, man, it’s for the greater good.” Fredric shrugged. “What I’ve done, protecting our way of life, protecting commerce, industry, protecting the very notion of capitalism, the foundation of our world? The Imagination Box is a device that appeals to the worst in us—it appeals to greed, the desire for more. Unlimited unearned stuff, for free? If it became a household tool, society would crumble. People wouldn’t go to their jobs, farms would shut down, factory floors would be homes for rats and weeds….”

  Had it always been a good thing, Tim thought, being able to create everything he’d ever wanted and more? Perhaps not. But that didn’t justify these drastic measures.

  “Times change,” Tim said. “You can’t uninvent things.”

  “That’s true, and I’d be lying if I said the technology isn’t awesome. But a nuclear explosion is awesome too.”

  “So, you’re scared of change,” Tim said. “That’s an old man’s problem.”

  “It’s a wise man’s problem.”

  “But that still doesn’t explain my role in all of this. Why steal my Imagination Box?”

  “This is where my plan got innovative, elegant,” Fredric said. He now stepped completely out of the light, pacing a short distance to another workstation, where he perched. “You understand that the Technology, Research, and Defense Agency likes to sniff around, getting their nose in people’s business. They developed their own mind board, a prototype. You saw it. They would inevitably have discovered what I was up to. And then they would have pulled the plug, had me put in prison. There was also speculation online, conspiracy theorists—people were taking notice of what I was doing. Harriet herself had begun an investigation. So I needed to get rid of them for good, cut off the head of the snake. That’s where you came in, Tim. I needed a keen individual, someone malleable, someone yearning for adventure.”

  Nodding, Tim remembered how true it had been.

  “And who better than you? You could help me learn even more about the technology, help me discover ways to block it. All the answers are in your brain, after all. So I stole your box, got you to come to me. It had to seem like you were figuring it all out yourself. Then you jumped through each hoop even more obediently than I had hoped.”

  “What about Eisenstone?”

  “He’s too smart, that guy. He was gonna make the Imagination Box work for everyone—it was a matter of time. I had to nip that in the bud. Framing him seemed obvious. I mean, as good as the mind board was, it was only ever a precautionary measure. It was hardly sustainable.”

  It was funny to think that if it hadn’t been for this part of his scheme, Fredric may well have gotten away with it. Tim might have missed the rest, overlooked the concerns he had. Framing Eisenstone, though, Tim thought, was Fredric’s biggest error.

  “And Harriet?”

  “Innocent,” Fredric said. “Collateral damage.”

  “But…but what about the emails I downloaded from her computer?” Tim said. “I read them. She arranged for the box to be stolen. She wanted to kill me.”
<
br />   “The emails you downloaded?” Fredric raised an eyebrow. “Come on, man, think it through. No, Tim, you uploaded them. You planted that evidence.”

  Tim felt sick, he felt used. “And you guided Dee straight to my Imagination Box,” he said, remembering how she just had a “feeling” where it was. “You were controlling her the whole time.”

  “That’s right, and I told you, via her, to create Harriet’s password.” He lifted an arm, proud of himself. “There’s no way I could have hacked into that computer without your help. So, thank you.”

  Tim sighed. There had been times when he’d thought that he was to blame for all of this. It had turned out to be an awfully appropriate way to feel.

  “You’re a microscopic cog in my well-thought-out plan,” Fredric added. “No TRAD, no one left to stop me.”

  “Well,” Tim said, pointing to himself, copying Fredric’s trademark eyebrow raise. “Me?”

  “Sure.” Fredric gave a condescending nod. “I’ve locked the Imagination Space. Dee’s going nowhere.”

  Managing to hide it well, Tim knew that to be untrue. She’d already left.

  “Samantha and Phil are in cuffs downstairs,” Fredric said. “I kept them alive to have a bit of leverage when I was struggling to catch you guys. Didn’t even need it. You came here willingly. It’s almost too easy. Anyway, I’d have liked to have done some more testing, but you’ve spoiled that now.”

  Dee appeared in the doorway, behind Fredric. Tim was overwhelmed with joy to see Phil on her shoulder and Samantha by her side.

  “All that’s left for me to do is tie up these loose ends,” Fredric said, lifting the zapper.

  “Freeze!” Dee yelled, pointing hers at his back.

  “Oh,” he said. “You’ve found the prisoners.”

  “Put it down on the ground,” Dee demanded. “Slowly.”

  Tim smirked from his seat. Astonishingly, the plan had gone better than expected. The tables had finally turned. Tim was in control for the first time.

  “Sure thing,” Fredric said.

  But then, in one swift motion, he leaned back, dodging the beam Dee instinctively fired, and shot the zapper in her hands. In a flash, it turned to air.