These Foolish Things: The Complete Boxset
Page 26
I could, so I nodded, thinking that I could probably brew and drink another couple of coffees before he got to the point.
'So, Phil, let's get down to things. It appears you've been breaking into people's houses to steal their pets…'
'No, I…'
'And you've been leaving your calling cards so that they come to you to find them again. It's one way of drumming up business, I suppose.'
'No, officer. None of this is true.'
'So, how do you explain the cards?'
'They're as much a mystery to us as they are to you.'
'I see no mystery here, Phil.'
I thought about going with Julie's explanation. I'd believed her and I knew she was lying, but no, it's never a good idea to tell a lie to the police; remember that, kids.
'Well…' I flustered. 'They're not our cards, and I was at home, or in a pub, whenever it happened.'
He flipped open his wrist-top. 'The time is now 17:33 and I am about to go into interrogation mode; Stage one; Bad Cop. Start timing from… now!'
He suddenly seemed much bigger, and his moustache was bristling; I've never seen anything bristle before, but that was definitely a bristle. He leaned closer and slapped one really quite dainty had on the top of my desk.
'So, buddy, are you ready to stop pulling my pisser and tell me the truth? It will be much better for you if you do, sonny, and quick, because this is my nice face; you don't want to see my ugly face.'
It was an opening I chose to ignore.
'You don't impress me, officer, with your moustache and your pink hands.'
That got him going; I thought he was about to explode.
'You're speaking to a police officer, here, sonny.'
'Private,' I offered.
Now, anyone who knows me would be surprised at how relaxed I was in the face of all this moustache bristling, hand slapping offensive interrogation. And they'd be right; I don't handle confrontation well at the best of times.
But, whilst he'd been getting up a head of steam, I'd taken the opportunity to query Neville on current police practices (private) so I knew that he was only allowed to use Interrogation code one, Bad Cop for two minutes.
The time was very nearly up and he'd have to move to Interrogation code two; Good Cop.
Very soon now he'd be getting me a cup of coffee, and maybe a cherry scone.
**********
'Here, let's stop and step outside, and I'll show you properly.'
The midsized white van pulled over to the hard shoulder and parked between the vibrant flower beds.
The Transport and Infrastructure AI had really wanted to look after something a little more exciting; maybe Deep Space exploration, or perhaps, one of the Military Action options, or even Parks and Recreation, but no, it got stuck with looking after roads that were hardly ever used now that you could get almost anywhere you wanted to go by squirtbooth. As compensation for its tedious role, the AI was given a very generous budget, so it was able to keep the highways in tip top condition, with all of the roads bordered by well-tended gardens and each shoulder area garlanded by flower beds.
The AI was really looking forward to the next Christmas, as it planned to decorate the whole length of the M1 with fairy lights.
Dart was a little nervous in the left-side passenger seat, squashed up against the much larger figure of Bill and unable to keep a close eye on Barnes, his new driver. Barnes was the only member of the old gang who’d chosen to stay in Manchester when Deed had taken the rest of the gang off to pastures new on OK. Dart was not entirely sure that he’d got the best side of the deal, as Barnes was unpredictable, arrogant and not very bright. Far more a handicap than an asset.
At some stage, Dart was well aware that he might have to join his old compadres, but not just yet. Not when he had a plan that, if everything worked out as it should, might leave him in a position of strength when he did finally leave Earth behind.
He opened the van door and stepped onto the shoulder. Bill joined him with a sigh of relief as he squeezed out of the middle seat.
'Right, Bill,' said Dart, pulling a roll of paper from its long cardboard tube. 'These are the plans. If I stretch them across the bonnet, you'll be able to see what I mean.'
Bill walked slowly to the front of the car, as if he had all the time in the world. He stretched his aching back as Dart spread the blueprints out on the front of the van.
A brisk breeze flapped at the edge of the paper.
'Here, hold this while I get some stones to hold it down,' said Dart.
Now, Bill wasn't a dim or a slow man, but he took his time in everything he did. So, when Dart's hand left the blueprint, Bill's hand hadn't quite made it, and a happy gust of wind ripped the blueprint from the bonnet of the van.
As Dart looked up, he was just in time to see the A3 sheet of paper wave goodbye as it sailed over the barrier towards the carriageway below.
'I…'said Bill.
‘Oh dear,’ said Barnes from the far side of the van. ‘That’s not very clever, is it?’
'You'd better go and get it,' snapped Dart.
Bill glanced over at Barnes.
‘He don’t mean me,’ smiled Barnes; shaking his head.
Bill turned back to Dart.
‘Go on,’ encouraged Dart.
Bill shrugged and walked to the barrier; taking his own good time. He looked over the edge and his eyes watched the errant paperwork on its impromptu journey.
'It's a long way down.'
Dart joined him.
'A few broken bones are nothing compared to what will happen to you if you don't get it back.'
The hand that gripped Dart's neck was surprising quick, and really quite strong.
'You threatening me, Dart?' he hissed, each slow word accompanied by a quick squeeze.
Despite his rapidly darkening complexion, Dart held his eyes and nodded, as he placed the barrel of his small handgun against his potential colleague's forehead.
‘Go Boss, go!’ yelled Barnes
Bill gave a last squeeze for luck and released his grip,
'Off you go, then, son.' Dart smiled as he waved Bill away.
Chapter 6 - Now…The Kleptrip!!!
(Some questions you might have, especially if you haven’t read the original book, In Favour of Fools: still available anywhere that has little regard for the quality of its merchandise:
No. 1, Why am I wasting my time on this claptrap?
Well, I need the money of course, and so will Phil, very soon. And at least I can pretend I’m writing.
No. 2, Who am I anyway?
I’m the Narrative Facilitator and it is my onerous task to take the direct real time uplink from Phil’s brain implant and convert it to the ‘light, witty text’ you see before you. From time to time I’ll attempt to relieve the tedium with one or two pithy comments of my own.
No. 3, How great are Pixies?
Well, I know I’m biased but, yes they are great. Check out my epic Pixie fantasy novel at;
pixiesaregreat@univ.com
You’ll love it. It is 1200 pages of intense drama and adventure, told with a certain panache by yours truly.
No. 4, What’s all this squirting stuff?
A Fools' Particle is a massless particle created when matter and anti-matter collide. Professor Fool worked out a way to trick normal matter into thinking it’s a Fool’s particle and can be squirted across a significant portion of the Galaxy. So, when you step into a squirtbooth, you dial up where you want to go on the planet and, hey presto, you’re there. If you want to travel off planet, you need a bit more power so you go to a Squirtport and do very much the same. The maths are very complex so you need an AI to do all the heavy work. If you imagine the worst algebraic equation you’ve ever come across and times it by A to the power of B (with A being an Astronomic Unit (the distance between Earth and the Sun) in millimetres and B being your mother in law’s disapproval rating (of you) on a scale of 1 to 100), then you’ve got the idea.
For heaven’s sake will you give me a break and stop with the questions?
OK, last one. The AI was squirted into Phil’s head to help prevent the theft of mankind’s supply of the most valuable commodity in the universe; Gill-juice.
That’s it. If you want to know anymore, just click function keys three to five on your Wrist-top and you’ll get all the information you could possibly need, or want. If you’re using a reader, of even paper (do people still do that?), then you’re going to have to guess, because I’ve got better things to do with my time. Or you could buy the book. Go on, you know you want to, and I’d be able to eat tonight.
Back to the story. N.F.)
Something very strange is going on here.
I was just walking towards the spaceship with the big guy, and I have to say it’s something quite special.
We’re never going to develop proper spaceships because we have Fool’s Squirt technology, which is a bit of a shame if you ask me. Not just because I’d rather travel in a spaceship and take ages to get somewhere than be dishonest with my particles and get squirted in seconds. It just that spaceships are so cool. Especially this one; it’s all black with red go-faster stripes along its upper and lower services.
If you want to get an idea of what it looks like and, as I suck at descriptions, just flip open your wrist-top and ask it to bring up a 1980’s Porsche and you’ll get the flavor.
Anyway, as we’re walking towards it, he suddenly veers to the left and begins to stagger off in the wrong direction.
So, now I’m standing here watching him go, and I’ll admit that I’m confused.
‘Not an unusual condition for you, Phil, if I may say.’
‘I should have expected you to chirp in there, Neville. So, what’s going on? You must know.’
‘It seems that our friend has succumbed to the invidious influence of the Kleptrip.’
That’s just what I want to hear when I’m so far from home, or safety.
‘The what?’
‘The Kleptrip is the intelligent and dominant life form on this planet.’
‘But I thought it was uninhabited; that this was the only land on the planet.’
‘Of course you did, Phil.’
‘Well, that’s what you told me.’
‘I thought it advisable to restrict your exposure to the truth.’
‘Why, what’s so bad about the truth?’
‘I wanted to reduce the opportunity for panic on your part.’
‘Now I am getting panicky. Tell me the truth; I can take it.’
‘Would you like to experience a humorous interlude first? I have several new jokes that I’d like to try out on you, if you think it’s the right time.’
‘No thank you; I’d rather just stand here and have a moment to myself, and then you can tell me the truth.’
‘Let me know when you’re ready.’
I watch the big guy for a moment. He looks as if he’s just about to fall, but catches himself at the last moment.
Now’s he’s stopped, and he’s waving his hands about, as if he’s trying to attract someone’s attention. But there’s no-one here but me - I hope.
He’s coming back now, and his walking is a little better. Perhaps he’s over the little fugue state he was in, and now he’ll invite me into his spaceship. I bet it’s got lots of shiny dials and levers and…things. Amazing things. Maybe he’ll give me a ride in it.
‘Phil, I think perhaps you should return to the cave.’
‘Why? I’ve only just left it.’
‘Still, you don’t want to get sunburnt.’
I look up at the grey cloudy sky.
‘I think I’ll be OK.’
‘Phil, trust me when I say this; I believe that if you start running now, you might survive the next 10 minutes.’
‘What?’
Now, I admit that I’m not always the quickest when it comes to noticing things, but, when there’s a voice in my head telling me to run, and there’s a 200-kilo alien charging at me with his arms spread and his little mouth gaping, then OK, I get the message.
I’m running now and I can hear him behind me, but he’s only got short little legs, and he’s very heavy; so he’s not that fast. Neither am I, to be honest, but now I’m in the cave, hiding where I started.
I know; you don’t have to state the obvious. If I’m hiding in the same place he found me last time, it’s not really hiding.
But it’s the best I can do.
**********
‘Your credpers has been declined,’ Julie said as she flounced into the office the morning after the busy day. Well, it was five minutes to midday.
‘I had to pay myself,’ she snapped, giving that look that says how did we both come from the same womb?
‘That can’t be right. We’ve still got plenty of money in the bank. Did you get the numbers wrong?’
That brought a glare; Julie has a very good glare; I think she practices in the mirror.
‘Of course the numbers are right. You must have spent all of the money you got for the Gill-juice last year.’(Taken directly from the nostrils of a dead gangster, if you’re at all interested. N.F.)
‘No, there’s some sort of mistake.’ I flipped up my wrist-top and called up my bank accounts. I have three accounts because, back before I briefly became the richest man in the Universe, the debit figures in my accounts seemed much smaller when split into three.
‘Oh, sh….’ She was right; every one of my accounts was in the red. I delved a little deeper and saw that the quite respectable balance of each account had been transferred out at 8 a.m. that morning; all to the same account.
‘Can you sort this for me?’ I asked the AI in my head.
‘Now you want to talk to me?’
‘I’m sorry about last night. It was a long day, but I shouldn’t have said those things.’
‘No, you should not have; calling an advanced Artificial Intelligence such as myself a bean counter is a real insult. Just ask The South American Coffee Bean Counter AI.’
‘So, what can you do about this?’
‘Do about your bank accounts? If you’ve spent all of your money you really can’t come crying to me. Did you like that? It’s my new disapproving parent persona.’
‘Get rid of it now; it reminds me too much of someone we won’t mention.’
‘Your mother?’
‘I said don’t mention her.’
‘I’m sorry, I’ll make a note to reduce the number of times I mention her.’
‘So, what about the bank? Something’s obviously gone wrong. I haven’t approved transferring all my money to this account.’
‘There’s very little I can do. Your bank is run by The We’ll Look After Your Money, Now Go And Play AI, so there can be no mistake. They were all approved transactions, made using all of the correct codes. You do realize the damage this will do to your credit rating after all the progress over the past year in developing your Credit Persona?’
‘But it wasn’t me. And who’s got my money now?’
‘Well, let’s see. I believe that I might be able to access the account holder’s name. It’s highly irregular of course, but, as the What If Something Really Bad Happens? AI, nothing is beyond me.’
‘Oh, get you. ‘Nothing is beyond me.’ I thought you were just an adjunct of the WISRBH? AI. Sort of like its little finger.’
‘It would be very difficult for you to understand, but you should accept that, in every way comprehensible to you, I am a fully functioning AI.’
‘OK, sorry if I touched a sore point.’
‘Mr. Henry Boom.’
‘Who?’
‘A Mr. Henry Boom has your money.’
‘Who’s he then? Where does he live? Let’s ring him and ask for my money back.’
‘Do you think that that is at all likely to be effective? My experience of humans is that they have a very strong what’s mine is mine instinct.�
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‘No, it’ll be fine. I’ll just explain the mistake and he’ll let me have my money back; it is mine after all.’
‘I believe you’ve just confirmed my point.’
‘No, I’m sure he’ll be a reasonable guy.’
‘Have you been talking to it again?’ asked Julie, interrupting us.
‘Yes, I’m trying to track my money. How did you know?’
She zipped a photo of me to my wrist-top.
My eyes looked vacant, my jaw was half open, and I’m sure I could see drool at the corner of my mouth.
Not a good look for me at all.
Chapter 7 - Now for some help
‘What are we going to do?’
‘Don’t worry.’
‘It’s OK for you. You don’t have a soft delicate body like me.’
‘Have you ever thought of working out?’
‘Can’t we squirt to safety?’
‘Not at this present moment in time.’
‘Why not?’
‘It will all be revealed to you in the fullness of time. You should be sure to stay alive long enough to hear the truth.’
‘Thanks for nothing, mate. You’re a big help.’
I think he’s coming inside the cave now. Yes, he is. He’s stopped. He’s looking around a bit confused. He’s sniffing the air now. When was the last time I had a shower? All this space travel plays havoc with your hygiene routines.
‘Help will arrive very shortly.’
‘How shortly? Like, now would be nice.’
‘There may be a short, unexpected delay.’
He’s moving again and any minute he’s going to find me and I’ll be munched to death in little pieces by his tiny mouth.
I’m going to make a run for it. I am. I know I can run faster than him; it’s a case of getting past him and then I’ll be off, like the wind.
He’s stopped again and he’s turning around to see if he can sniff me out here in the dark. Right, that’s it; I’m off.