by J Battle
'Good morning, to you, Mr. Chandler.' He had the sweetest little high pitched voice; I couldn’t help smiling and stepped back to let him in.
When we were both seated (I didn’t look, but I knew his feet were dangling midway between the seat and the floor) I asked him to let me know what I could do for him.
‘I hesitate to ask, Mr. Chandler, but this is a matter of global necessity; Empire necessity if we are to be absolutely accurate.’
I smiled at him; at last a case I could get my teeth into.
‘Well you’ve come to the right place Mr…’
‘Sploosh,’ he replied, his eyes not quite meeting mine; as if he was especially fascinated with my left ear.
‘Sploosh?’ I said, rubbing my left ear to make sure nothing objectionable was hanging from it. ‘That‘s an unusual name.’
‘Have you never been to Splooshville, Carolina?’
‘No, I don’t believe I have. Is it nice there, this time of year?’
‘It’s never nice there; any time of the year, I have to say.’
‘Oh, that’s a… So, Mr. Sploosh, perhaps you can let me have the details of your case, and we can discuss the fee and what we can do for you. How does that sound?’
‘As though you have completely misunderstood my reasons for being here.’
‘If you explain, then I‘ll know.’ The little squirt was beginning to get on my nerves.
‘I represent the Advanced Galactic Exploration AI; here is my card.’
He leant forward; just about reaching the edge of the desk, and placed a gold card on its scarred surface.
The card sort of spun around and became a cube; then it grew until it was metre on a side, spun again and disappeared in a flash and a bang, leaving three white smoky figures hanging in the air; A.G.E.
I was impressed.
‘We don’t want to hire you for your investigative skills, excellent though they probably are. We want you to represent our interests in certain situations that are likely to develop over the next few months.’
‘If you don’t want my investigative skills, what do you think I bring to the party?’ I was also wondering why the AI in my head was being so quiet. This had him written all over it,
‘You are in a unique situation, Mr. Chandler, with the symbiosis between you and the adjunct of the WISRBH? AI you carry.’
‘There’s no symbiosis about it; he just sits there; annoying me.’
‘Symbiosis merely means the close interaction or living together of two different species.’ I knew he wouldn’t keep quiet for long.
‘I knew that,‘ I said, out loud instead of in my head.
‘In that case, you’ll fully understand our desire to make use of your unique partnership to help us further the cause of humanity.’
‘And that would mean?’ I was pretty damned sure I knew what he meant, and I didn’t like it one bit.
He smiled; a sort of half-hearted attempt, as if he felt that he should.
‘We want you to travel on our behalf.’
‘To Miami? Or the Seychelles? I don’t mind checking out any five star hotels for you.’
‘You know that’s not what I mean.’
‘I know, but that’s as far as I’m prepared to go.’
‘But you would earn our fullest and deepest gratitude, and that of mankind as a whole; those who know.’
‘I’ve had gratitude and, you know what? It doesn’t pay the bills.’
He hopped down from his chair and stood up to his full height.
‘We believe that this is something that you have to do; and that, given a little time to reconsider, you will also come around to that view point.’
‘Well, don’t hold your breath, pal.‘I wanted to say something clever and dismissive, but that’s all I could up with. My N.F. will probably sort that out later.(Not a chance, pal. N.F.)
‘If you need me, you can contact me via your symbiotic partner,’ he said as his little legs carried him through the door.
‘You knew that was coming, didn’t you?’ I said, as the door closed behind him.
‘Yes,‘ replied my little passenger.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘It was felt that you would take it better coming from another human being.’
‘What do you think?’
‘Maybe we were wrong.’
‘Spot on, mate. Spot on.’
My phone rang, which was a bit of a shock. Julie wasn’t about, and it wouldn’t be her job to answer it anyway. I keep forgetting that Sam is now my secretary. We should get an extension put in the bathroom.
‘Hello,‘ I said. I’ve tried saying ‘hi’, or ‘Chandler speaking,’ or even, once, just saying ‘speak,’ but none of them are really me, so I just say ‘hello.’
‘Hi, Philly boy. Long time no speak. What have you been doing with yourself, or should that be to yourself?’
It had been nearly a year since I last heard that voice, but it still made a chill run up my back.
‘Hello…Devon,‘ I replied, really pleased that I hadn’t called him Mister.
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
‘Er, are you still there?’ I gave in first; I always give in first.
‘Yeah; I’m still here.’
‘And…what do you want?’ You don’t know Mr. Devon, so you don’t know how hard it is to be so blunt to him. Imagine being caught doing something unmentionable at school, being taken to the strictest headmaster there has ever been, ever, and saying to him ‘what do you want?’
‘Let’s start with when you are going to pay me the money you owe me?’
‘But I…’ I was trying to tell him that I didn’t owe him any money; that I’d paid it all back when I had my little windfall last year, but, is it just me? Do you sometimes get the feeling that something you were absolute sure you’d done, that maybe you didn’t and it was just a dream?
‘Last week, you bet on the big match, and lost.’
Now I had him. I was sure, without a shadow of a doubt, that I hadn’t made a bet with him last week, and certainly not on the match; he’d never have given me decent odds against the Reds.
‘I think you’re mistaken, Devon,’ I said, feeling a rush of macho.
‘You had that girl place your bet for you; she was a bit young but she had all of your codes. Said she was your niece. Nice little girl; very giggly.’
I didn’t have a niece, and if I did, I’m pretty sure that I wouldn't have her placing bets for me with him.
Feeling a little sick, I asked the obvious question. ‘Did she leave her name?’
‘Yes; what was it now? Oh yes, it was Millie, wasn’t it?’
Everything made sense to me then, as though as great big massive cartoon style anvil had been dropped on my head.
Chapter 10 Now, I'm a little tense
Is this really happening? Am I really about to do this?
I've asked Neville to go over what I have to do three times now, and he's getting a little tetchy.
‘What about a quick joke, before we go? Just in case… you know.’
'We should go now. I have his exact position, using Roger 2's eyes, I can see that he has arrived at our last hiding place.'
‘How is R2D2?’
'Well, his eyes are working; nothing much else.'
‘And you can see through his eyes?’
'Yes, I have remote viewing capabilities, but you don't really need to know this, do you, Phil? You're just putting off taking action.'
‘Yes; it's one of my more endearing traits.’
'If you say so, Phil. Are you ready? I'm going to start the countdown now; three, two…’
‘Can't you start at 10?’
'One.'
There's no time to feel anything; a second ago I was there, and now I'm here, and so is the big guy.
I'm right behind him and I'm supposed to run over and plant the green foil hat on his head; it's as simple as that. But I can't move my feet.
I kn
ow that as soon as I take a step, I'll make a noise and he'll turn around and shoot me, and that'll be it; no more me.
'The longer you stand there doing nothing, the more chance that he'll turn and kill you. At least if you are already moving, you might beat him to the draw, so to speak.'
‘Beat him to the draw? He's got a high tech ray-gun, and I've got a hat!’
'But you have the element of surprise.'
OK; I’m going to do it; I'm going to do it now. Any minute now. It's a good job we don't have background music; it would be banging away now; I can hear the Jaws theme ringing in my head as I take my first hesitant step.
Then my next. Oh no, he's started to turn! I can see the side of his face, and the end of his gun.
It's me or him; no more hesitation, just action.
I'm leaping forward and up; both my feet are off the ground, and I'm reaching for the shot.
'Take that sucker!' I yell as the hat lands square on his head.
He's still turning, and so is the gun. It hasn't worked; any minute now I'll be toast, so I'm going to…
'Oh, hello there, Mr. Chandler. I didn't see you standing there behind me. I'm mortified to think that I may have caused some harm to you, before we've even been properly introduced. Did I hurt anyone?'
'Just Roger, and Roger,' I reply helpfully. Maybe I'm being a little spiteful, but he did shoot at me; you saw him; you're a witness.
'Oh dear. I'm so sorry. It's not like me at all; I hardly ever go berserk, these days.'
'They were just robots; you didn't harm a living thing,' I say; relenting.
'Oh, well that's just fine, then. What's this on my head?'
He's reaching up.
'No! Stop!' I shout. 'You mustn't take it off.'
'Of course, I'm so sorry. It's stopping me from falling victim to the undue influence of the Kleptrip, isn't it? I should really leave it in place.'
Together we begin to walk towards his space-ship.
'My name is, in its shortened version, Le- Pultrude-Dis-Ing, but, if you'd like to, you may call me Ing.'
'Nice to meet you, Ing. And you can just call me Phil.'
To be honest, it is nice to meet him, properly, now he's not trying to kill me.
'What was it like, being controlled by that Klep thing?'
'Well, it was strange, and not at all unpleasant, apart from shooting at you; I didn't like that bit, but overall, there was something quite nice about doing things you'd never normally do, being without inhibitions, if you like. And I've never got to fire this gun before; not in anger, really. I've had it for years; cost me an actual fortune as well, so that was nice.'
We've arrived at his ship and he offers for me to go first.
I'm inside now, and quite frankly, I'm disappointed. His ship looks the business from the outside, but inside, well it's just a room. A round room with no seating and no dials; not even a single flashing light.
'Lovely,' I said, when he joined me.
'Thank you, Phil. Minimalism is very big where I come from.'
'Where is that anyway? Have you travelled far?'
'You would know it as (he says some long unfamiliar word that I don’t really listen to – my NF will fill in something suitable later).' (Yeah – that’s going to happen! NF)
I think he's mistaking me for someone who knows the least bit about cosmology. But I nod sagely anyway. I get lots of good comments about my sage nodding.
'So, tell me, Ing. What's this all about?' I lean against a wall as there's nowhere to sit.
Ing sort of squats and I wonder if I should leave the room and give him a little privacy, then a seat rises from the floor of the room and now he's sitting comfortably.
I shrug and think, I can do that, so I squat next to him, and squat, and wait, and wait.
'I'm sorry, Phil, but the ship doesn't recognize you as a person.'
I get that a lot.
**********
'What is your assessment of the current situation?'
Millie studied her teddy, propped up in her lap.
'Mostly as planned, I believe. At some stage I'll probably look again at abducting his parents, but he's bankrupted and stressed, and the next stages, involving his sister and his business premises, are almost ready to go, so yes. It's all good.'
Teddy lifted one wrist and displayed his watch.
'If you will look at dial number one, you'll see the average balance of the Universe, at the moment. As you can see, it is a little in the red at the moment, so I think you should slow down a little until the balance between red and black is more even.'
‘And the second dial?’
‘That is tied to Philip Humphrey Chandler, it is also in the red.’
‘But I have more scope with him, don’t I? As long as the average is close to balance?’
‘Of course.’
‘And the third dial; what does that do?’
‘It tells me the time.’
‘Oh, I see,’ replied Millie, not really paying attention. ’Argu is due to perform tonight, isn’t he? And he promises a new, ground breaking joke, I believe.’
‘That is the case.’
‘So, if I anticipated the swing towards the black we always get from his jokes, then there is no need for me to hold back; I can move on to the next stage of the plan, can’t I?’
Teddy bears can’t shrug, they can only swing their arms and legs, and swivel their heads, so Teddy swiveled his head in a shruggish sort of way.
‘I don’t suppose the auditors will complain, as long as we return to balance.’
Millie giggled and clutched her Teddy to her chest as she skipped around the room.
‘It’s going to be so much fun; I can’t wait.’
Chapter 11 Then again…
(Well, you’ve read 10 chapters so far, and well done for sticking with it. I’m sure you have better things to do with your time; I know I have.
I’m getting a little Phil fatigue so I’m going to take a little break and let you know what’s been happening to me.
Over a pint, or six, Phil convinced me that we should take control of our destinies and self-publish these books; Indie Publishing he called it. I should have said no; at least I was getting paid by our conventional publishers. But I didn’t say no, so now I don’t get paid unless you buy this book, and the first one, In Favour of Fools; didn’t I mention that?
If you buy all of our books, I’ll eat tonight. It’s as simple as that.
Just thought I’d mention it; I’m not trying to guilt trip you or anything. If I had kids, I could show you a picture, but I haven’t, so back to the story… N.F.)
‘So, do I get paid?’ It seemed a reasonable question. After all, I was broke and I've even had to get the old coffee machine up and running. I have to say that it's not very shiny, or quick, and there are no flashy displays, but it does make a nice cup of coffee.
'We were hoping for a somewhat more altruistic response.'
‘Does that mean you expected me to risk life and limb for nothing? Think again Neville.’
'It wouldn’t be for nothing; it would be for the benefit of Mankind as a whole.'
‘Sounds like an empty wallet and a hungry belly to me.’
'Perhaps some modest level of payment could be arranged, but we do have a tight budget.'
‘I'd like an advance.’
'When?'
‘Now would be nice.’
'When we return from our first trip, we'll see what can be done.'
‘That doesn't sound very definite to me, and what do you mean by first trip? How many are you planning?’
'We thought that it would be advisable to take a couple of test trips first, before you embark on your first mission.'
I didn't say anything for a few moments as I tried to work out what was best for me. Obviously the benefit of Mankind as a whole is very close to my heart, but don't judge me too harshly if I put myself first; somebody has to.
If I could earn some extra money from these s
quirting adventures with Neville, maybe I could keep the business going and perhaps eat on a more regular basis; which would be good.
But I'd have to squirt to alien worlds where my slender delicate body might be regarded as the peak of culinary good taste; which would be bad.
I didn't know what I should do and Julie was out, again, and Sam would probably advise me to hide in my bathroom with him.
And I don't suppose you've got anything helpful to suggest, have you, in your cosy little world, in your comfy chair, wrapped in your quilt, taking vicarious delight in all the bad things that happen to me? It's not nice, and it's nothing to be proud of; I'm just saying; that's all.
'I'm going to make my decision tomorrow.' I announced.
'Why tomorrow?'
'Today's Tuesday; I don't make decisions on Tuesdays. There's far too much of the week left over to regret those decisions. At least if I make a decision on a Wednesday, there's only Thursday left to rue the decision.'
'What about Friday?'
'It's the weekend, man!'
**********
He watched the audience from behind the curtain. The warm-up act had gone down well; a little too well to be honest, but never mind that.
Argu was about to try out his newest joke on his devoted public and he was more than a little concerned that it might be a little too experimental for them, even though they were sophisticated and worldly, and they worshipped him. But a joker was only ever as good as his last joke, so his frills tossed with tension.
Taking a deep breath and counting to seven, he brushed the curtain to one side and sauntered on stage, pretending ignorance of the presence of the eager thousands.
Someone laughed and he spun to face the sound, expressing shock that he was not alone. The audience settled in delighted anticipation.
From a large rectangular box in the centre of the stage he pulled out a slender crystal vase. He held it up to the light so all could see.
'A present from my life partner number three's second parent, fortune bless her thirteen talons,' he said, echoing one of his oldest and most adored jokes.
