These Foolish Things: The Complete Boxset

by J Battle

  The big man put a heavy hand on each of Sam’s shoulders and pressed.

  ‘Don’t mess me about, son. You know which blueprint, so just tell me where it is, and we can all go about our business, and there will be no need for further unpleasantness.’

  Sam decided that this would be a very good moment to whip his mask off and say, Tada! You’ve got the wrong guy. If only his hands weren’t tied to the chair.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, instead.

  ‘Don’t give me that! You looked it up online, using the specific code that was printed on it. So you must have had it in your hands.’

  ‘It was stolen.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It was in my office; in my safe, actually. But we had a…sort of burglary and, when we checked, it was gone. Strangely, nothing else was pinched; they must have just been after your blueprint. Was it important?’

  ‘No!’ The big man spun away and strode out of sight.

  Sam listened for the sound of the door, but he came right back.

  ‘When was this burglary?’ There was an urgent tone to his voice.

  ‘Well, let me see, was it…Tuesday?’ He looked up at the big guy. He spun away again.

  ‘No, that’s three days. I’ll never get it back now.’

  He was back in front of Sam. ‘Who knew about it? Who knew it was in your safe?’

  ‘No-one,’ replied Sam. ‘Except you of course. Did you steal it big guy? Is this all a trick to fool your associates? Are they listening now? Do they believe you? Have you fooled them into thinking that it wasn’t you all this time?’

  Later, Sam would have to admit that the slap that came his way wasn’t entirely unjustified.

  The big guy rushed off, slamming the door behind him. Sam listened carefully and he was fairly certain that he hadn’t heard the lock turn.

  Maybe, if he could only get free from his bonds, he’d be able to just walk out of the door and make a clean escape.

  He examined the ropes that were holding him in place.

  Everyone can tie knots; it easy; just a few loops and a tug and there you are. But not everyone can tie a good knot; and fewer still can tie a succession of good knots; in this case there were four knots.

  The big guy hadn’t sounded or walked like a sailor, so Sam guessed that there were four basic, poorly tied knots keeping him from freedom. He flexed his right arm and pulled. Nothing.

  He did the same with his left. Nothing.

  Both legs, and still nothing.

  He looked at his wrists. If he’d really been Phil, his wrists would have been thinner and he could have pulled them free easily. He wasn’t Phil but still, it was worth a try. He tried to pull his right arm back along the arm of the chair.

  Was there some movement there? Maybe his arm moved a centimetre. It wasn’t much, but it was something. He spent the next ten minutes pulling and tugging at the same restraint, without any obvious effect. All he got for his trouble was sweaty.

  With the perspiration glistening on his naked wrist, he pulled again. This time there was a definite slippage as the rope moved three centimetres along his lubricated skin, stopping as it reached the pad of his hand.

  Fifteen minutes later Sam could barely subdue the moan as he tore his hand free.

  He began to work frantically then, terrified that the big guy would return and find him still half-bound to the chair.

  Another ten minutes and he was able to stand, with sore wrists and ankles, but free.

  He looked down at his T-shirt, soaked with sweat. He pulled it over his head, leaving him with a white vest. It was slightly off white to be honest; well to be absolutely accurate, it was grey. The laundry facilities at Phil’s office were hardly adequate.

  Then he felt along his neck, looking for the seam. There was an unpleasant tearing sound as he pulled off his Phil mask and exposed his own slightly reddened and very sweaty visage.

  He paused at the door and took a deep breath. He didn’t have any protection now but he was going to do it. He was going to burst through the door and deal with whatever situation he might find.

  In the end, he didn’t burst through the door. He opened it slowly; quietly.

  There were two men in the room, sitting across from each other in matching armchairs, watching the 3D holographic drama being played out between them.

  Sam paused for a second; it was one of his favourite dramas but, with the terrible reception in Phil’s bathroom, he hadn’t been able to keep up to date with latest developments. Was Alice really going to run off with Blake? After all Anderson had done for her? And what about their child? Was she still in hospital waiting for the transplant that the shouty doctor had promised her?

  Get a grip, Sam told himself, and then he stepped into the room.

  ‘Hey guys. Chandler’s half out of his ropes, already. You better get in there quick or the big guy will have you for breakfast.’

  He strode across the room and tapped the nearest man on his shoulder. ‘Jump to it, man,’ he said as he sailed past him, towards the door. ‘I’ll go and get the Boss. You better have him secure before we get back. Understood?’

  ‘What?’ said the first man, half out of his seat.

  ‘Who are you?’ said the marginally more verbally acute second man.

  ‘Me? I’m the nightshift,’ replied Sam as he pulled open the door.

  Both men looked at their wrist-tops to check the time.

  ‘I was early,’ said Sam helpfully. ‘Is that the window?’

  Then he was gone, leaving a flurry of confusion in his wake.

  Chapter 24 - Then it’s only Showbiz

  ‘So, Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome back to Freddy Fromage’s entertainment delight. It’s so good to have you back; did you miss me?’

  Freddy smiled his dazzling smile at the camera.

  ‘Of course you did. Don’t worry, I’ll be here all night. Now that we’re all settled in our seats, it’s time for the next part of the show. Now folks, I know we‘ve had a good ol’ time so far, but this is where we get serious. Get your hankies out girls, and you guys as well, ‘cause now it’s time for Hands Across the Years, brought to you this week by our new sponsor, Millie the Alien! She may seem wicked, but she just a girl, and all she wants is a bit of fun. Hooray for Millie, everyone, Hooray!’

  He clapped and the guy in front of the audience with the outsized foam applause hands leapt up and down, waving his hands.

  The crowd obeyed and clapped and hooted and cheered.

  Freddy Fromage held his hands up when he thought the time was right.

  ‘Now, now folks.’

  The crowd settled down on cue.

  ‘OK, let’s see.’ He scanned the audience, his eyes flitting from left to right, up and down. ‘There you are! Camera; fourth row, middle right, third seat. Yes, Mr. Blunt, you’re right. Tonight the lucky subject of Hands Across the Years, is Toby Blunt! Come on over, Toby, why don’t you?’

  Reluctantly a middle-aged man with wispy hair and heavy woolens stood up, looking more than a little confused as to what he should do next.

  Fortunately, one of Freddy’s Funsters was in the audience nearby and she was able to guide him to the low stage area.

  ‘Hi there, Toby Blunt, great to make your acquaintance. Come right over and rest yourself in this little throne we’ve set up here, just for you.’

  He took Toby by the hand and guided him to his seat.

  ‘Now, I know this a big surprise for you, and you have to thank your old work colleague Nellie for telling us your story. Nellie, are you there? Stand up and take a bow!’

  A small round person with curly red hair and a lamentable sense of style bounced in front of her seat, waving both hands and grinning fit to burst.

  Toby waved a fist at her, only half in jest.

  ‘OK, Toby.’ Apparently from nowhere, Freddy had produced a large silver book. ‘Many years ago you met the love of your life, and you fell head over heels in love with a girl called Annie. Alas, it d
idn’t last, and you’ve been alone ever since.’

  He looked at the audience who oohed sadly on Toby’s behalf.

  ‘Now Toby, it’s been nearly twenty years, and you never thought you’d meet again, but, tonight, on the Freddy Fromage show, it’s finally going to happen, before the eyes of millions across the twenty one worlds. Hands Across the Years has pulled out all the stops on this one, I can say, and tonight Toby, you have a chance to relive a small part of your past. Squirting in from Texas, US of A, tonight, Toby…’

  Toby was half out of his seat, his eyebrows so high that he now had a fringe.

  ‘Here he is, Toby, Billy Crud, the stud who stole Annie from you, all those years ago!’

  ‘What….?’

  A large, jolly-looking man bounced onto the stage and rushed towards Toby, still halfway between standing and sitting. The newcomer grabbed Toby by the shoulders and pulled him to him, clasping his arms around him in the biggest hug Toby had ever had. The audience cheered and whooped.

  At last it was over and Billy Crud allowed Toby to slip back into his chair.

  Billy spun around and strode over to Freddy Fromage. ‘I love that guy,’ he said as he took the microphone from the host.

  ‘Hey, everybody.’ He turned to the audience. ‘I’ve just got to say that this guy means the world to me. He changed my life around, and I will always be grateful to him. When I met him, I had nothing; nothing at all. And he had everything: the great job, the looks, and, of course, the most beautiful girl in town.’

  He turned to Toby briefly, a light frown flashing on and then off. ’Annie couldn’t make it tonight, bud. She said you’d understand.’

  His face lit up again as he turned back to the audience. ’Yes, he had everything, and then he messed up, and I won the biggest prize of all. I have Annie, three wonderful girls, and my own business, employing nearly five hundred people. That’s Crud Up Enterprises if you want to check it out. And I couldn’t have done it all without this great guy here. Let’s show him our appreciation, folks.’

  He began to clap enthusiastically; the audience joined him.

  Toby sat in his seat with his head in his hands.

  ‘Is this working?’ asked Millie, from her position a little behind the director.

  ‘Of course! Humans love this sort of thing. We’ve already moved several points towards the black and, when we open up the charity donation line, it will move even further. We’ll have a double bonus there; the givers will feel great about themselves for giving, and the receivers will be happy that someone cares,’ whispered her Teddy.

  ‘How long will we have to do this?’

  ‘We have three more shows scheduled, but Argu is setting up an emergency show soon; if that works, we might be close enough to balance not to need to go ahead with the rest of the shows.’

  Millie watched the screens, her stomach turned by all the smiling faces in the audience. All the people so happy, and all she saw were the teeth, snarling at her.

  ‘Let’s hope Argu doesn’t let us down,’ she said, hugging her Teddy to her.

  ‘In Argu we trust, as the saying goes,’ muttered Teddy.

  **********

  Yes, it was a long way down. I felt a little giddy and took half a step back. I didn’t want to risk falling all that way and ending up in the gaping maw of the red river of lava at the base of the cliff.

  That’s when I got shot.

  I felt a very hard thump in my shoulder, and I fell forward, only just stopping myself from falling over the edge.

  I didn’t feel any pain; just a strange numb absence of feeling and a strong desire to be back in my office, sipping from a cup of strong coffee.

  There was another shot; that hit me in my left thigh. Again the nanos dampened down the pain, but I was getting a little annoyed. Any moment now the shooter might hit some vital organ that my nanos couldn’t fix.

  I wanted to leap up and rush back and punch him on the nose, but somewhere deep inside me, there is a rich seam of common sense, or cowardice, that prevented me from taking such precipitous action.

  ‘Beta guy,’ I said instead. ‘Are my fingers still situation specific tacky?’

  ‘Yes, they are. As tacky as the situation requires you might say.’

  ‘Great.’ I didn’t stop to think about it; after all, I was being shot at.

  With a gentle sigh I slipped over the edge, catching myself with my suddenly very tacky fingers before I fell.

  Then, with a smooth action that would have had Spiderman cheering, I scurried across the face of the cliff so that when they reached my drop point, I wouldn’t be directly below them.

  I was more than a little miffed when I looked back and saw that it was Mandy with the rifle, not one of the guys. I was hurt. I know, I had a bullet in my shoulder, and one in my leg, but the nanos could do nothing about the pain in my heart. Did our time together mean nothing to her? How could she think of shooting someone who had just brought her to the peak of pleasure?(Peak? Really? Maybe the foothills? N.F.)

  She was waving the gun from left to right; searching for a target.

  I pressed myself against the face of the cliff.

  It was getting hot; what with the heat from the lava stream and the effort of holding my 60 kilo weight just with the strength of my sticky fingers.

  How long could I hold out?

  ‘Any chance that Neville might be just about ready to come online and squirt me somewhere nice?’ I asked.

  ‘Define just.’

  ‘In the next two minutes.’

  ‘If you want specific figures, then there is a six percent chance that he will be available to you within the next one point seven minutes.’

  ‘So, not much of a chance?’

  ‘That is an accurate appreciation of your current situation.’

  'I could help you, Philly boy.'

  Despite the heat. I froze. That was a voice I was never going to forget.

  'Millie!' I gasped.

  'You recognized me?' There was glee in her voice.

  'Once heard, never etc…' I replied as I desperately searched for a way out of my predicament that didn't involve help from Millie, or getting shot again.

  If I moved much further to my right, the cliff curved outwards and would expose me to Mandy's bullets. If I moved to my left, I'd just be making it easier for her.

  'That looks a little dangerous, Philly.' She didn't sound at all worried. 'If you fall, I don't think your nano-machines will be able to save you.'

  'I'm in no danger of falling,' I replied, sounding both pompous and unconvincing even to myself.

  'Because of your sticky fingers? They're not really sticky, you know? They just have a high coefficient of friction.'

  I looked at my fingers, splayed and clinging to the vertical smooth surface of the cliff face. I was just being held up by friction? Didn't sound very safe to me.

  'Look what happens when I dial down the coefficient level on your thumb.' She sounded playful, but it wasn't a game I wanted to play.

  My right thumb came away from the wall; then my left. I was hanging just by my eight fingers. Then it was six.

  'Stop!' I yell.

  'Oh Philly, you're such a spoilsport. I bet you could hang by one little finger. Shall we see?'

  'No!' was my succinct reply, as I began to climb up the cliff. I was going to have to take my chances with Mandy's bullets. I didn't want to be roasted, boiled, burnt, incinerated, or whatever the proper description is for death by lava.

  I reached the top with four sticky fingers, a headache, a bunch of tense butterflies in my stomach, and alarmingly relaxed bowels.

  'Philly…' Her voice in my head seemed to trail off, as if the distance between us was increasing as I ran along the edge of the cliff.

  There was a loud bang behind me and something struck me in my left buttock. I stumbled and fell, grasping at the cliff edge to stop myself from falling. This getting shot all the time was beginning to get on my nerves. Couldn't Annie Oakle
y miss once in a while?

  I started to crawl as quickly as I could, fully aware that my chosen mode of movement was both undignified and ineffective, and presented a perfect target to me sharp shooting erstwhile paramour.

  'Can I be of any assistance, Phil?'

  I could have rolled over and kicked my legs like a happy puppy at the sound of his voice. I didn't, of course; someone was shooting at me.

  'Neville! You're back. Thank goodness! Get me out of here!'

  'Of course, Phil. You merely have to wait 3.2 seconds and we…'

  I didn't hear the rest as my unerring huntress had taken another shot; right buttock this time, for a change. I was fervently hoping that on her next shot she wouldn't split the difference and go for the bulls-eye when, suddenly, we were gone.

  I found myself sitting in the middle of a giant impact crater on a watery world; and then you turn up.

  Chapter 25 - Then the sound of Willow

  The white van pulled up at the corner of the empty street. Barnes didn't feel the need to check his mirrors or flash his indicators. With so few cars on the roads these days, who would be watching?

  Dart nodded to the three other passengers; one beside him and two in the back.

  'Ready, Guys?' he asked, expecting nothing but confirmation that they were all up for it.

  'Too right, Guv,' grunted Eric, from the middle passenger seat. He raised his cricket bat to show just how ready he was.

  Dart frowned. He would have preferred for his men to be armed a little more effectively, but the cricket bats would have to do. Guns were out of the question, of course, with their stool pigeon fire and report facility, and now, even knives were no longer available as a weapon of choice for your average hard working criminal. Any knife with a blade longer than seven millimetres would set off alarms when removed from its registered and licensed place of use. This new policy instigated by the Law & Order AI was a real nuisance; it's very hard to impose your will and extract your due rewards from people who are foolish enough to carry money when the only threat you carry is to scratch them to death.