It's Only the End of the World

by J. A. Henderson

  “Manticorps kind of invented me by mistake. Those idiots didn’t even realise what they’d stumbled across at first.” The screen showed a clip of clowns chasing each other round a circus ring.

  “Some hotshot analyst in the Marginal Science Department wrote a programme amalgamating the billions of algorithms already existing on the web. Thought it would be a useful predictive tool. Instead, he produced an artificial intelligence, far smarter than any human. That would be yours truly.”

  “No need to big yourself up,” Daffodil rolled her eyes. “We all know what a smarty-pants you are.”

  “As soon as they realised the abilities I had, Manticorp’s scientists programmed me to obey their commands and put me to work improving their projects.”

  “Until my dad hacked in and reprogrammed you to be the good guy.”

  “A bit simplistic, but close enough.”

  “So why the insistence on destroying Manticorps?” Charlie carried on, undeterred. “With your resources, can’t you just spirit my family and Daffodil away? I wouldn’t mind my own beach.”

  “That’s a fair question.”

  “How about an answer?”

  “’Cause I’m supposed to defend all human life, if I can.”

  “So? Manticorps isn’t after anyone but us.”

  “True. Thing is, I can sift through an almost infinite amount of information on the web instantly. Calculate the most probable outcome of any set of events.”

  “Good for you. Maybe you can help us win the lottery.”

  “I’m afraid we’re playing for far higher stakes than that.”

  Frankie paused dramatically.

  “You see, I’ve identified a likely occurrence in the near future which will cause the end of the world.”

  10

  “Say what now?” Charlie went white.

  “That’s a bit of a surprise, Frankie.” Daffodil looked equally uneasy. “A pretty nasty one too.”

  “Bummer, eh? What’s more, this extinction event is one that Manticorps will inadvertently trigger – which is the real reason you two are going to help me destroy them.”

  “Are you sure about this?” Charlie frowned. “After all, nobody can predict the future.”

  “No, they can’t. But I’m able to assemble data from every computer system, security camera and hidden corner of the internet on this planet. Then my billions of complex algorithms calculate the most likely outcomes of what I see. And I predict Manticorps are going to cause a catastrophe.”

  “What kind of catastrophe?” Daffodil asked. “A war? A tidal wave?”

  “I haven’t narrowed it down to specifics, though we can probably rule out tidal waves. But there’s no doubt those morons are the catalyst.”

  “Shouldn’t you recruit yourself an army then, instead of two kids?” The boy folded his arms, as he always did when he was being stubborn. “Seems like there isn’t much you can’t manage.”

  “Using too many people would interfere with my delicate computations. I’d explain why, but I haven’t got a spare hundred years to teach you theoretical physics.”

  “You deserve a kick in your delicate computations for that crack.” Daffodil raised a booted foot. “Except I can’t reach my neck.”

  “Oh, you’re hilarious.”

  “Then get to the point,” the girl tisked. “You’re talkin more gibberish than Donald Duck’s answerin machine.”

  “I can give you a theoretical example of how we have to work together, if that’ll help.”

  “Better than nothing, I suppose.” Charlie sat down on the couch next to Daffodil. “Our tiny minds will try and keep up.”

  “All right. Suppose Manticorps developed a flying human/monkey hybrid.”

  “A flying human monkey?”

  “Yeah. That’s stupid. Let’s make it a flying human/octopus hybrid. Can I continue?”

  “Go ahead,” Charlie sighed.

  “Tomorrow they intend to let it out for a test flight. But they don’t realise it has a virulent disease that will turn the whole world into zombies.”

  “This is a pretty dopey example,” Daffodil tutted.

  “I’m trying to make it fun, so you’ll concentrate.”

  “Mentioning the extinction of mankind pretty much grabbed our attention.”

  “Charlie’s right. The most obvious move is to hire a bunch of thugs, attack Manticorps’ headquarters and exterminate this thing before it gets out. Why do you think I won’t do that?”

  “Because people might get killed in the process,” Charlie answered. “And you can’t let that happen.”

  “Bingo. I’m programmed not to be directly responsible for any human dying, even if my inaction means the whole world getting wiped out. Gerry was trying to do the right thing, but he didn’t think it through properly.”

  A shudder went down the boy’s spine.

  Frankie is fighting his programming.

  If Frankie were free to act as he wanted, he could probably destroy Manticorps without too much effort. But where would he draw the line? Would any human life matter to him?

  Daffodil stroked her chin, oblivious to Charlie’s turmoil, trying to figure a way round the problem.

  “You could shut down Manticorps’ defences all on your own,” she said. “Turn off the power and everythin.”

  “Sure. But I can’t actually walk into their headquarters and shoot the thing.”

  “I see.” Charlie snapped his fingers. “You’d need someone human to sneak in and kill it. Which would be me.”

  “Gold star for Captain Irascible.”

  “How are you going to do that, Chaz?” Daffodil looked puzzled. “You can see in the dark now?”

  “Actually, I can. Another side effect of the Atlas Serum.”

  “Wow. No wonder Frankie picked you.”

  “Wait a minute.” Charlie hesitated. “What if this octopus man can see in the dark too? And he gets the jump on me?”

  “I’ll send Mac to your funeral with a nice bunch of roses.”

  “Hey! You’re supposed to be my protector.”

  “Ah. But it was your plan, Chaz. If you’re determined to carry it out and end up kicking the bucket, that’s not my fault. It’s called a loophole.”

  “So, you can’t actually order anyone to attack Manticorps in case there are fatalities. You need people to work with you, rather than for you.”

  “You’re finally getting it. That’s why you have to volunteer for the job.”

  “Volunteer?” Charlie ground his teeth. “After everything you’ve done to us?”

  “You’d rather Manticorps watched you forever? Or at least until they captured us all?”

  “I wouldn’t. But what if we do refuse?”

  “Then the human race goes the way of the dinosaurs. Your choice. And you have to believe me when I say that you two are the best bet I have for success.”

  “Just me and Charlie?” Daffodil looked cynical. “I sure don’t rate our chances against a private army.”

  “Me neither,” Frankie agreed. “You’ll need the help of a real professional, so I’m hoping to recruit the best.”

  On the computer screen, a grey boxy building with towering concrete walls appeared.

  “Outside Edinburgh is Sunnyside Maximum Security Facility, which houses a notorious murderer known as the White Spider. If you agree to help, your first task is to break Spidey out and enlist him to our cause.”

  11

  “You’re off your rocker!” Charlie choked. “That’s way too difficult!”

  “Not with Frankie on our side.” Daffodil tried to sound reassuring. “He’ll tell us how and we’ll follow his instructions.”

  “You’re not listening, Mac,” Frankie replied patiently. “Like everything else, the plan to free the White Spider must be thought up by you two.”

  “I still don’t understand.” Daffodil shook her head. “You’ve got a brain the size of Australia. You must be able to come up with a better strategy than us.”
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  “Can’t deny that. I can think of a dozen schemes to free this guy – but they also carry the risk that someone will get bumped off. So I can’t ask you to perform any of them.”

  “In other words,” Charlie said bitterly, “you’re not willing to accept the blame.”

  “I’m willing enough. Just not able. Your dad saw to that.”

  “What would happen if you decided to grow a pair?” Daffodil asked sarcastically. “Take matters into your own hands?”

  “What happens if I ask you to stop breathing, Mac?”

  “That sounds like a great idea,” Charlie deadpanned.

  “Banter’s coming along nicely, kid. Point is, I’ve attempted everything to override my programming. But I just… can’t.” Coloured dots chased each other round the screen like angry fireflies. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

  “Calm down, buddy,” Daffodil said soothingly. “We get the picture.”

  But Charlie frowned.

  Frankie is fighting his programming.

  Don’t trust him.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’ll assist in any way I can. But, like I said, you’ve got to volunteer for the job and think up a plan yourself. That way, if things go wrong, I won’t be directly responsible for you dying. Or anyone else for that matter.”

  “What’s so special about this White Spider, then?” the boy asked. “A prison must be full of likely candidates.”

  “The Spider hates Manticorps with a passion and has some extremely… unique talents. He will be an invaluable ally in the coming fight.”

  “He also happens to be a homicidal manic. Think you can control him?”

  “Wouldn’t have asked you to free the guy if I didn’t. And I better mention that he can’t be allowed to stay on the loose. You’ll have to find a way to return him to Sunnyside when it’s all over.”

  “That’ll be a walk in the park, won’t it?” Charlie fumed. “Then we can go on to invent time travel, discover Atlantis and win the Nobel Prize.”

  “I know exactly where Atlantis is. Not hard to figure out when your intelligence is off the charts. I’m still working on time travel.”

  “You might have smarts, bub,” Daffodil wagged a finger at the screen. “But modestly sure ain’t your strong point.”

  “Sticks and stones, Mac.” Frankie chuckled. “Don’t be all day thinking about it, though. Time isn’t on our side.”

  “Seems like nothin’s on our side. Not even you.”

  “Tick tock, guys. Don’t let humanity down.”

  The computer went dead.

  “Sounds to me like we’re between a rock and a hard place, Chaz.” Daffodil rummaged through the drawers of the desk until she found a pad and pens. “Let’s get started.” She clicked the top of a biro and handed it over. “Penny for your thoughts?”

  “I think you’re an idiot,” Charlie snapped. “We’re talking about breaking into a prison, not the neighbour’s greenhouse.”

  “The principle’s the same.”

  “No it isn’t,” he replied despairingly. “And how about freeing a murderer?”

  “He’ll probably want to go, won’t he?”

  “I’ll bet he will. Won’t want to be returned to prison either. Come to think of it, there’s no guarantee he’ll agree to help us.”

  “Aw, stop acting like you got less guts than a white flag on a diet.” Daffodil sighed. “When the chips are down, you come through with flyin colours.”

  “I won a fight, drove a van and memorised some numbers. Doesn’t exactly turn me into one of the Avengers.”

  “You make me so mad, know that? It’s like pullin teeth to get you to accept you’re special.”

  “Mac, most of my life nobody expected anything from me,” Charlie said forlornly. “Hell, my parents were delighted if I got better than a ‘C’ on my school report. Now I’ve suddenly graduated from saving my family to saving the world.” He held out a shaking hand. “So, yeah. I’m terrified.”

  “What about those leaps of logic you were talkin about earlier?”

  “This is more like leaping off a cliff. There’s nothing logical about it.”

  “You got me and Frankie to help, remember?” Daffodil said good-naturedly. “We might not like each other, but if we stick together, surely we can give it a shot?”

  “What did you just say?”

  “Eh? A bunch of stuff. I never listen to myself.”

  “You said if we stick together.” Charlie leant over and ripped a few pages from the pad. “Look. I’m going out to the balcony for a while.”

  “Why? You sulk better if you have a nice view?”

  “No.” The boy tapped his lip thoughtfully. “But I actually have the beginnings of a crazy idea.”

  12

  Mrs Magdalene sat behind a mahogany desk uncluttered by photographs or mementos. Her office was just as impersonal. No plants. No lamps. No mirrors. No rugs on the wooden floor. Plain shelves lined the walls, laden with neatly ordered books. A set of digital clocks showed the time regions of the world. A coat rack in one corner was bare as a winter tree.

  Mrs Magdalene wasn’t interested in fancy possessions or any other displays of authority. As vice president of Manticorps, she didn’t need to show off how powerful she was.

  At the other end of the room, Victor waited patiently, his huge frame making the chair he sat in look like a toy. His face was red and swollen and ugly purple bruises mottled his forehead.

  “You’ve worked for me for quite some time.” Mrs Magdalene’s face was turned away, so he could only see her profile. “I’ve never had reason to reprimand you before.”

  “You still don’t.” Victor shifted in his seat, which creaked alarmingly. “There was no way for me to predict the situation we encountered.”

  “The situation being your four-man squad getting soundly beaten by a housewife and a couple of children.”

  “One child,” Victor corrected. “The girl spent most of the fight under a table.”

  “That almost sounded sarcastic,” Mrs Magdalene mused. “Surely you’re not stupid enough to antagonise me. Not after yesterday’s debacle.”

  “Simply stating the facts, ma’am,” Victor replied. “My team are all ex-servicemen and the best at what they do. Taking those people in should have been a piece of cake. It turned out to be quite the opposite.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “The girl rumbled us and the woman started swinging a kettle about. Yeah, she got lucky and took out a couple of my men. Even so, I would have easily prevailed.” Victor touched his tender head, still bewildered by what had happened. “When Charlie joined in, that was something else entirely.” He indicated the wounds on his temple. “What he did to me wasn’t luck. The boy moved like he’d had years of training in unarmed combat.”

  “And you had no inkling that Charlie Ray was capable of such feats? Even after watching his house for a month?”

  “He never did anything out of the ordinary before. Seemed a bit of a loser, to be honest.”

  “All your reports indicate that, yes.” Mrs Magdalene slowly turned her head to look at him and Victor, tough as he was, repressed a shudder.

  One half of the vice president’s face resembled some fearsome school matron. The other side was much worse, puckered and twisted, the flesh hard and bubbled as melted plastic. Her lip curled up over exposed teeth in a permanent sneer, as if her cheek had been unzipped, and one eye drooped alarmingly. The disfigurement made Victor’s own injuries seem like gnat bites.

  “What do you know about Gerry Ray?” the woman asked.

  “He’s on your shortlist of people who might have destroyed the Marginal Science Division,” Victor replied. “That’s why you had us watching the house. In case he tried to contact his family.”

  “And the Atlas Serum?” Mrs Magdalene opened a file on her desk.

  “It was supposed to enhance human capabilities in order to make super soldiers.” Victor looked surprised. “I thought that had gone nowhere.” />
  “We suffered a few setbacks, but an unexpected breakthrough put the project back on track.” The vice president studied the papers in front of her. “After yesterday, I’d say Gerry Ray’s son bears all the hallmarks of having been given just such a drug.”

  “He couldn’t have beaten me otherwise,” Victor concurred.

  “I’m now utterly convinced that Gerry Ray stole our research.” Mrs Magdalene stared out of the window. “Then he burned down our lab, killed our scientists and did this to me.” She stroked her scars with the gloved hand. “Naturally, I’m very keen to find his whereabouts.”

  Victor stayed quiet, well aware that Mrs Magdalene wanted vengeance rather than sympathy.

  “Did you identify the girl you found with the Rays?” the vice president asked.

  “We dusted the house for prints before the police arrived, but came up blank.” Victor shook his head. We also took a couple of pictures of her in Charlie’s window the night before, but it was too dark to make out her features properly.” He spread meaty hands. “We have no idea who she is.”

  “Could she just be Charlie’s girlfriend?” Mrs Magdalene mulled over what she had been told. “In the wrong place at the wrong time?”

  “No. In my opinion, she’s more dangerous than the boy.”

  “If she didn’t join in the fight, what leads you to that conclusion?”

  “As soon as she showed up, all our bugs went dark. Naturally, we removed them after the family fled.” Victor reached into his pocket and took out a small blackened object. “They’re fried. Not turned off or disabled. Fried.” He tossed the device onto the vice president’s desk. “These things are state of the art. I don’t know of anything that could reduce them to charred metal.”

  “Frankie could. He’s also capable of scrubbing the girl’s identity from any database.” Mrs Magdalene gave a thin smile, though it turned into a sinister leer on the shattered side of her face. “I assumed he was destroyed too, but it looks like I was wrong. He must have been downloaded onto a chip or external drive. Judging by what you’ve said, I’m now inclined to believe this unidentified girl has it.” She picked up the bug and studied it. “I don’t like being wrong.”