by J Battle
'This is the 21st century, you know? People don't use words like 'thwart' or 'dastardly',' replied Sam, trying to extricate himself from the long, thin, importuning arm.
'Nevertheless you understand me. Don't you Sam?'
Sam scowled at Draggle. 'Who do you work for anyway?'
'Can you not guess?'
'What do you mean?'
'Well, the blueprints describe a building built to specific requirements to house a particular and most important AI.'
Sam would have been out of his seat at sound of AI, but the long thin arm no longer merely draped; it now gripped.
'The Law and Order AI to be specific. We call it LOrd for short. And LOrd wants your help.'
'No way, mate, am I going to work for an AI. I've spent half my life trying to avoid them. How did you find me anyway?'
Draggle smiled and chuckled. 'Took us a while, what with your tin foil hat, face paint and ice packs making it difficult, but then you took them off.'
'So I was right? They were after me?'
'You're right now, Sam. So you might just as well take the money and do what you're told.'
'And if I don't?'
'Well, Sam, I don't have to tell you what would happen to you if you got on the wrong side of LOrd.'
Sam had flash images of the jungle worlds they could send him to, and the desert worlds, and the worlds in between that he just wouldn't like.
'What exactly does LOrd want from me?' He sighed. He was fairly sure that Phil would have held out longer but, without his tin hat and other safeguards, there were few options open to him.
'We believe an attack on this building is imminent and we need you to stop it.'
'Why me?' Sam noticed how forlorn his voice sounded.
'We know that Philip Chandler had the blueprint three days ago, and since then he has disappeared.'
'But Phil isn't a criminal; he wouldn't attack the AI. I think he actually likes them. And he's not violent; even his sister bullies him.'
'Do you have an alternative explanation that explains his possession of the blueprint and subsequent disappearance?'
Sam squirmed out from the annoying arm and stood up.
'I'm going to help you Draggle, and your blasted AI. Not for the money; not just for the money. I'll help you to prove that you are wrong, and that Phil is innocent, that he is the last person in the world to break the law.'
(It should be noted that, as Sam spoke these very words, Phil was. in fact, breaking any number of laws as he squirted onto the orbital prison platform, Only If You Don't Mind. I'm only saying. N.F.)
Draggle joined him on his feet.
'So, to be clear, you still want the money.'
'Yeah, I'll take your money.'
'In that case, you'll need to wear this.'
Before Sam had a chance to react, Draggle had fastened a silver bracelet around his left wrist.
'What the…!' Sam pulled at the bracelet, but it refused to come loose.
'Just a security requirement; you might actually like it.'
'Like what?' Sam could feel a flush coming on; he really needed a good sit down in a quiet room with a cold pint of lager.
'Hello, Samuel.' Sam spun around, but the voice was in his head. 'I should introduce myself. I am an adjunct of the Law and Order AI, and we will be together for the duration of this mission.'
'What? What the…? You're in my head! Get out of my head!' Sam was half way to the door before Draggle pulled him to the ground.
'Calm yourself, Samuel. I mean you no harm. Our interaction will be situation specific. When the situation is resolved, we will separate and go our own ways. How does that sound to you?'
Sam jerked his body, trying to dislodge Draggle, but he was a big guy, and heavy.
Sam rested his cheek against the carpet and closed his eyes.
'Alright, alright! Get off me, won't you? I'm not going anywhere.'
He felt a big hand flat in the middle of his back as Draggle got to his knees. 'Just stay there for a minute son,' he said.
'OK,' Sam rolled over onto his back. 'Tell me what I need to do to get this thing off my arm.'
**********
They stared at Teddy's watch in silence; there was hardly the need for words.
After Argu's latest disastrous performance, watched by a significant proportion of the Galaxy's population above level six, the dials were all well into the red.
'You have to stop,' said Teddy at last.
Millie nodded, her eyes not leaving the watch.
Phil's sister was in prison, his business had been sold, his building was demolished, and he would soon find himself in prison when his break-in to Only If You Don't Mind was discovered.
How much more could she actually do to him?
There was his mother of course; that would be the final nail in the coffin.
'No,' said Teddy, as if he could read her thoughts.
'You're right, Teddy, as always. It's just that, before I go, I'd like to make an attempt to do something that could push things a little towards the black.'
As Teddy had no facial muscles, it was very hard to gauge his mood, but Millie thought that he was giving her a stern look.
'Be careful, Millie. Very careful. I know all about your vaunted ambitions, but, if you go too far today, you will never become the Lord High Fulcrum.'
'Don't worry Teddy. In the spirit of rapprochement, I'm just going to arrange a little family get together. Can't see any harm in that, can you?'
Teddy immobile face didn't give much away, but she took his silence as agreement.
Chapter 29 - Then our sponsor’s voice
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Sam was in the back room of The Hairy Follicle, nursing a cold beer and ignoring the nagging from his bracelet.
He needed to think, and where else would be more suitable.
LOrd thought that Phil was complicit in the theft of the blueprint and whatever attack was about to take place. Sam's first impulse was to say that LOrd was completely wrong; that it was not at all possible for Phil to be involved.
But what if the AI was not completely wrong? What if it was just slightly wrong? What if Phil was not exactly involved, but somehow slightly connected?
These were the thoughts percolating in Sam's head; going around in circles.
He took a drink from his beer.
'Should we be going now, Samuel?' asked his bracelet.
'Not until I've worked out what to do.'
Sam watched as Don't Mind Lily finished the drink she'd scrounged from Boring Brian. She was looking around for her next benefactor and her eyes were getting very close to his.
'Right, we're going.' He necked his beer and stood up.
'Good. Where are we going?'
'Shush, wait 'til we're alone.'
Sam was used to people staring at him; after all, he usually walked around with a tin foil hat, face paint and the optimum number of ice packs. Still, he didn't want anyone to overhear the plan that he was beginning to develop.
Out on the street, he checked to see that no-one was close.
'OK. Listen now and tell me what you think.'
After years of running from the clutches of the AI's, Sam felt strangely calm to be in partnership with one. Perhaps he was finally growing up?
'Sam didn't steal the blueprint, and he's not about to
mount an attack on your HQ. He's not, but maybe someone he's been involved with in the past, is.'
'Perhaps you should develop your thoughts more?'
'No, listen, it makes sense. On his last big case(In Favour of Fools - try it; why don't you? N.F.) they tried to bug his computer. I thought I'd stopped them, but maybe they came back and loaded some virus or something?'
'And they used his computer network to source data on the blueprint?'
'Meaning Phil is innocent, and you don't need me anymore.'
'It is a bit of a stretch, Samuel.'
'No, listen. The more I think about it, the more certain I am. You must know who they are; you are the Law and Order AI.'
'All but one of the individuals involved have left Earth and travelled to one of the Twenty.'
'Then there's only one guy left. Who is he?'
'Harold Dart is a person of interest, though no evidence has been obtained to sustain a conviction.'
'There you go, then. Arrest him, get the blueprint, foil the attack, give me my money and get off my wrist.'
'It's not quite as simple as that, Samuel.'
'What do you mean?'
'No trace of Dart's movements have been detected in the last two days.'
'So, what, you don't know where he is?'
'That is an accurate summation of our current situation.'
'But you don't need me anymore, do you? I've done my bit; I've proved Phil innocent and identified the culprit. Sounds like a job well done to me.'
'A job incomplete is not well done.'
Sam sighed and tugged at his bracelet.
'How did I know you were going to say that?'
**********
I don't like this; not one bit.
I've just squirted from the light and airy Only If You Don't Mind and I'm now in a dimly lit, cramped and strangely damp corridor on Gotcha!
All those films you've seen where stupid humans search for horrible alien monsters on space ships and space stations could have been shot here.
There's water dripping on my head, for heaven's sake.
And I can't stand up straight; I keep banging my head on the low ceiling and it doesn't look very clean.
I begin to walk along, bent over and worried that, any minute now, someone's going to jump out and hit me with a big stick.
I've just heard something, so I've stopped. Did I say I don't like this?
There’s only silence.
I hold my breath.
Still silence.
Is there someone around the next corner who’s also holding his breath? And does he have a big stick?
Maybe it was just an echo of my own footsteps? If Neville was still here he’d probably analyse the acoustics and give me figures on the likelihood. I don’t get that kind of service from Dumbo.
OK, I’ve started moving forward again. I should have checked out the schematics for this place before I left lovely old Manchester, but I didn’t expect to be here.
There’s a wide door here to my right. It’s got a window but it seems murky on the other side and I can’t see anything.
I’ll just try this handle; I don’t suppose it will…oh, there we are, it’s just swung open. It looks dark inside, but I can hear a whirring sound, and a steady hum.
Steady hums aren’t dangerous, are they? Unless there’s a giant bee inside, but that would be a buzz, wouldn’t it? Unless the Gargantua Genus of bees hums.
I know, stop going on about stuff and have a look inside. You first.
No?
Just me then.
My eyes are adjusting to the low light levels; is that natural or are my heroic little nanos at work again?
The room is long and tall, with rows of shelves running along its length. The shelves reach up close to the ceiling and I count twenty rows. Lined up on each shelf, head to toe so to speak, are coffin sized casks, speckled with green lights.
So this is where they store prisoners who have taken the suspended animation option. They don’t broadcast these things, but the word on the street is that they rent these casks to the prisoners at what they call a nominal weekly rate, but after nine years and more than four hundred weeks, the resulting figure is far too high for a newly released prisoner to pay, given that he hasn’t worked for nine years, and has little prospect of future employment.
The Law and Order AI agrees to waive the fee if the ex-convict will go on a one-way trip to one of the more remote planets.
I don’t know if it’s true, but it wouldn’t surprise me.
Oh, no! There’s someone at the door!
I’m in a corner, trying to make myself very small and dark; yes, dark would be good. I hope whoever it is doesn’t have nanos to enhance their vision.
‘Hello, Philly babe.’
Oh, no! It’s her! In the flesh! How did she find me? How does she always find me?
‘Shall I come in, or do you want to come out and play?’
I weigh up the options; none of them seems to include leaving me in peace.
I step out from the shadows, trying to appear as in control of events as possible.
‘What do you want, Millie?’ I know I have a stern frown on my face.
‘I want to help, Philly, that’s all.’ She reaches out and takes my hand.
‘Why should I believe you? You always just try to mess things up for me. Last time you tried to make me drown myself.’
‘And I’m very sorry for that. I know that I’ve gone too far this time and I’m here to make amends. I’ve been ordered to, by my boss. He’s not very pleased with me.’
There’s something about that little girl voice and the sad expression on her face that makes me want to believe her, but I know there’s a big, ugly ravening monster behind that façade.
‘Just go, Millie and leave me in peace. That’s how you can make amends.’
She squeezes my hand. ‘You’ve come to rescue Julie, haven’t you?’
‘Yes,’ I reply, because I have.
‘And you don’t really know where she is, do you?’
Is it that obvious?
‘I’ll find her,’ I insist; well, it’s more like a suggestion.
‘Not without help. There are nearly one hundred thousand inmates on this prison platform; and that doesn’t include the thirty plus thousand who are in the annex.’
‘Annex?’
‘See, you didn’t even know there was an annex. And, anyway, I know exactly where she is, right now.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes, she’s in a reception room, waiting for you.’
‘What? How?’ I seem to have lost the ability to speak in sentences.
‘It’s my gift, Phil. It’s my way of saying sorry.’ She looks up at me with those big eyes, and I swear she’s tearing up.
What do I do? Do I believe her and go with her and rescue Julie? Or do I say get thee behind me Satan and refuse her help and try to find Julie on my own?
Or do I pretend to believe her and let her lead me to Julie, and then, in a flash, squirt me and my sister away to a secret place? What do I lose if she’s lying? She’s right; I’ll never find her on my own.
‘OK, then,’ I say slowly, not sure yet if I’ve made a decision. ‘Take me to her.’
There, I’ve obviously made the decision; with no help from you, I might add.
So…I didn’t expect that! I’m in a small room with a table and two chairs; Julie is sitting in one of them.
‘High Sis,’ I say as we rush to start a really big hug. ’Had enough of the Penal System? Ready to make your first prison break?’
‘Oh, Phil!’ She’s blubbing and, you know, I’m not far off myself.
‘How did you get here? How did you find me? I’ve only been here a couple of hours.’
‘Questions that can all be answered when we get to…’ I turn to Millie. I’m not that much of a fool.
But she’s gone.
Does that mean she was telling the truth all along? It’s hard to believe, but th
at’s how it’s looking.
‘How are we going to get out?’ Julie steps back to get a good look at me. I know she can see the muscles.
‘I’m squirt capable, don’t you know?’ I say with something of a swagger.
‘But you hate to squirt!’
‘I know; I don’t understand it myself. Come on before someone comes with a big stick.’
There’s a knock on the door.
Oh, bother.
I turn and look at the door. Is it a safe bet to assume that the guy with the big stick wouldn’t be knocking on the door?
I take a deep breath and walk over to the door. Without pausing to give common sense a chance to kick in, I open it.
I stare for a moment, and then another. I wasn’t expecting that. Fighting the urge to call for the man with the big stick, I take a small step backwards and say, ‘Hello Mother.’
Chapter 30 - Then BANG!
Sam frowned up at Draggle.
He didn't want to be here, hiding inside this derelict building, though Draggle seemed strangely happy about the whole situation.
'You know what he looks like.' His bracelet had said.
'Haven't you got photos?' Had been Sam's perfectly reasonable question.
'You know that they are not the same. To a human eye, a three-dimensional memory is much more accurate.'
'Is it?'
'I could give you the figures.'
'But… if there's any violence. I'm not really your man.'
'That's why we have Draggle. He loves an occasional display of mindless violence.'
So here he was, hiding in a broken-down house with a man who loves a bit of mindless violence.
Any minute now, Dart and his gang would arrive and things would get a little too exciting for Sam's taste. Or maybe it wouldn't be today. Maybe Dart would come tomorrow, or next week. Who could say? He hadn't been spotted for days.
'Want a sarnie?' asked Draggle, offering a sandwich that was so white it almost glowed in the dim light.
'No thanks, mate. I'm not hungry.'
Sam was hungry, but he'd certainly need more data on the sandwich's provenance before he took a bite.
