These Foolish Things: The Complete Boxset

by J Battle

  One male, whose name was never recorded, got a little bit excited at the display and urinated on his Minloggie seat. With a surprising burst of speed, Terronce tossed the micturating ape from his head and pounded him into the sand, and then tossed his lifeless body into the sea.

  The other apes watched dumfounded, and didn't realize until it was far too late that they were being surrounded by their erstwhile occasional furniture, and then the slaughter began.

  Not just there, but along the whole coast, and then a wave, a torrent of ferocious fungi stormed across the land, killing every ape they came across.

  Within a year, apes had been wiped from the planet, and the Minloggies settled back to their usual languid lifestyle, and all was at peace.

  It might well have remained so, and the scourge of the Universe that they eventually became might never have happened, if not for the arrival of a spaceship from a dying planet.

  Vincent stepped down from the cramped spaceship that he'd flown for years, seeking a place to land and start a new life, along with his cache of 100,000 fertilized eggs. He had all the equipment and technology he needed for his race of bipeds to start anew.

  And the land seemed so peaceful, with the rich grasses, abundant forests, and fields and fields of standing giant mushrooms.

  He was more than a little surprised when a troop of them charged him, flipped him to the ground and began to crush him beneath their immense weight.

  When the deed was done and they moved back from his somewhat flattened corpse, the leaders of the Minloggies could see the truth revealed to them. Their task was not complete; it was barely started. They had cleared this abomination from their own planet, but there were other planets out there, planets infested with bipeds.

  They spoke hushed words together, filled with awe at the task they were about to take on.

  'We will travel across the Universe,' said Terronce, as the others bowed in deference, as much as a mushroom can bow, 'and we shall seek them out, and wherever we find them, we shall exterminate them.'

  'Exterminate,' came the response, first from one, and then the next, and then all together. 'We will exterminate.'

  Many years later, when they'd spread their crusade across a considerable portion of the galaxy, their leader, Terronce XXIV, received a call.

  'Hi there, Mr. Terronce, ' she said, with a giggle in her voice. 'Do you want to know where you can find some more of those pesky bipeds?'

  'Yes, Millie, I believe we do,' he replied and, if he'd possessed a mouth, he would have smiled.

  Chapter 4 Then, the partnership

  I was having a quiet drink, on my own, on a Sunday night. Sunday night was the only time you could get an alcoholic drink in a public place; a special dispensation from the We Really Do Know What Is Best For You AI.

  I didn't know where Sam and Julie were, they'd asked for this meeting after all. Ah well, I don't mind drinking alone. I thought.

  At least, I was alone until Dreary Derek turned up. Now, I don't want to say anything too bad about Dereks, in case I happen to be read by someone with that name, but I've never met a Derek that I wanted to meet again. There, I've said it, and if your name is Derek, then I'm sorry, but the truth hurts. Take a look in the mirror and tell me I'm wrong. The only thing worse than a Derek, is one who calls himself Dirk.

  This particular Derek was probably at the leading edge of Derekness and, for some reason I could never fathom, he seemed to like me.

  I looked down as soon as I spotted him, but I was too slow. A Derek can spot a likely victim from across a crowded room, and the bar was empty.

  He sat down opposite me and raised his eyebrows, and his lips sort of quivered.

  ‘Hi, Derek,’ I said, before the silence could get to me.

  He nodded, and his eyes settled on my pint.

  ‘How’s it going, then?’ I said, to distract his attention from my drink.

  ‘Oh, y’know,’ he said, slowly.

  Obviously I didn’t, or I wouldn’t have asked.

  The situation was beginning to get a bit tense, as I had a pint, and he didn’t. Was he waiting for me to offer to buy him one? After all, I was here first, so I was in the chair, so to speak.

  But if I bought him a drink, we‘d be in a round situation, and he’d have to buy me one back, and then it would be my turn again.

  We could be here all night.

  I wasn’t having any of it. Maybe he didn’t want a drink, or perhaps he just wanted to watch me drink mine.

  I took a long, slow drink. Not too long, though. I didn’t want to get to the point where I’d finish my drink and want to buy another one, and have to, by law, buy him one.

  It was a case of waiting him out. Well, I can outwait the best.

  ‘So,’ I said. ‘Going away this year?’ If he wanted boring, he was going to get Olympic standard tedium.

  That seemed to get his attention, as he dragged his eyes away from my pint.

  ‘Not really sure. Last year, it was Greenhaven, and, well, you know Mary got pregnant again. The year before, it was David, and Mary got pregnant. The year before that, it was L.A., and Mary got pregnant.’

  ‘That’s a lot of children,' I respond with the right level of sympathy, I think. 'So, what are you going to do?’

  ‘Well, I guess I’ll take Mary with me this time.’

  I put my empty pint down, and I checked my wrist-top for messages. I took a look at my shoes, and rubbed my hands along my pants. I closed my eyes for a second, and then I looked up. He was still there, looking at me, with that expectant look.

  Right, I thought, I'm not having this, I thought. I need another drink, I thought.

  I stood up and noticed a woman at the bar.

  'Excuse me,' I said to Derek as I stood up, 'I need to speak to her.'

  Then I was off, and a sense of great freedom washed over me and I felt like a gazelle racing across the plains, or pampas, or whatever they run across.

  As I got closer to the bar, my eyes settled on the woman at the bar. At first glance, she looked a bit thin. At second glance, I could see that she was slender, not thin. Third glance told me that she was curved in the nicest of ways, and fourth glance told me she had breasts. I couldn't wait for the Tenth glance.

  I know that I’m making it sound as if the bar must have been an awful long way from my table, but I’m a very quick glancer; I’m known for it in certain circles.

  'Hi,' I said, as I leaned against the bar, deliberately looking at the barman, so as not to be looking elsewhere, if you know what I mean.

  'I see you've been Dereked?' she whispered, without turning.

  'Oh yes, ' I replied, 'I've been Dereked.'

  I caught the eye of the guy behind the bar and I indicated my need for a drink. He sort of acknowledged my request, but took his own sweet time complying, which, for a change, was fine by me

  ‘So,’ I said, still facing the bar, ‘you’ve been Dereked yourself, then?’

  I could see her nodding with my peripheral vision.

  ‘Yes, I’ve known Derek for quite some time, and he never fails to disappoint.’

  I turn then to give her my full-on charm. It’s worked before, at least in my dreams it works.

  ‘Can I buy you a drink, to help me get over my Dereking?’

  Her glass was empty, because I’m a professional at this and I’m never going to make a rookie mistake and ask a woman with a full drink if she wants a fill-up, because that’s just asking for a negative response. Of course, if she was a bloke, you actively wait for him to have a full drink before you offer. That’s just the way things are.

  ‘Oh, that’s very nice of you,’ she replied, and then she smiled at me, with her mouth, her face, her eyes, her everything, and I felt myself falling then, and I don’t know why, or what I was falling into, but I didn’t even look at her breasts.

  ‘Er…good. Same again, please.’ That last bit was to the barman; I wasn’t asking the lady to smile again, because I was hoping that she’d vol
unteer.

  ‘My name is Phil,‘ I offered my hand, because it’s the thing to do, and it’s the only way I could think of to touch her skin without a slap.

  ‘Hello, Phil.’ She took my hand in hers, and she probably said her name, but I wasn’t listening, because after so long, I was actually touching a woman, and she wasn’t protesting.

  Her name was Emily, I found out later, when I had to ask her, because I was about to introduce her to my sister and Sam.

  We had an enjoyable drink at the bar; at least I enjoyed it, but I can’t remember much about it, except for the glow, there was definitely a glow.

  At last, she checked her wrist-top and said, ’Oh, I didn’t realise it was that late. I have to go.’

  She must have noticed the way my face collapsed in to a look of desolation because she put her hand on my arm, and gave it a little squeeze. ‘I’ve sent you my contact details, Phil,’ she sighed. ‘Call me.’

  With that she was gone, and I could still feel her touch and see her smile, like that cat in Alice in Wonderland.

  I was so moved by the experience that I even sent Derek over a pint of the cheapest lager, though I still had sufficient wits about me not to follow it.

  Just then, Julie and Sam came in, all of a bustle.

  ‘Hi Phil,‘ said Sam, as he pulled the brim of his floppy hat lower, to cover most of his face. ‘What are you smiling at?’

  ‘Oh, you know; just life.’

  ‘Come on, bring your drink over to this table, will you, we have business to discuss.’ Julie guided me to an empty table within easy reach of the bar.

  ‘Two lagers please Jim, when you’ve got a minute,’ she called, as she sat down.

  ‘Now, Phil, we’ve been talking, and planning, and we want to make a proposal, don’t we Sam?’

  Sam nodded somewhere within his hat, but he seemed to be watching Derek, who was still staring at his wonderful golden gift with a perplexed look on his face. Surely I wasn’t the first person in his whole life to buy him a drink?

  ‘Are you listening, Phil?’ asked Julie with a stern tone. I hate that stern tone. It reminds me so much of one of our parents, and I’m not talking about the wonderfully confused individual we call Dad.

  ‘Of course I’m listening. What’s your proposal?’

  ‘We want a partnership, you, me and Sam. Sam will provide the finances, I’ll provide the organisational and logistical skills, and you can…’

  I knew she was only pausing for effect, but it was getting too long for me. ‘I’ll provide the investigatory experience.’

  ‘Yes, if you say so, Phil. We’ll make a good team together, the three of us, all for one, and one for…whatever.’

  ‘We’re not changing the name. We’re sticking with Chandler…’ I wanted to be very firm on that point, if on no other.

  ‘We can call ourselves Chandler, Chandler and Mo…’

  Sam jerked and put his hand on her shoulder. ’Not here, Julie,’ he hissed. ‘You don’t know who’s listening. We should call ourselves Chandler, Chandler and…Nom de Plume.’

  ‘Nom de Plume! We can’t call ourselves that,’ I said, because obviously, we couldn’t.

  ‘We’ll call ourselves Chandler Associates, how does that sound?’ said Julie, getting all efficient on us.

  ‘Actually I like that; it sounds sort of professional like. Yeah, Chandler Associates, how can we help you? We’ll get our lead investigator right on to it; here are our inflated fees. Yes, I like that.’ I took a big drink, just to show how happy I was.

  I had a new business, and partners, and I may just have nabbed myself a beautiful girlfriend. It couldn’t get any better.

  ‘And we’ve got new offices, in the Beecham Tower no less, at a bargain price.’

  Now that was something, prestigious new offices in Manchester’s tallest building.

  ‘How did you manage that?’

  ‘Well, it’s being demolished in six months, and the rent is dirt cheap, and the furniture is even thrown in.’

  I was probably sitting there with the biggest grin on my face, when Neville chirped in.

  ‘Philip, I think it is time now to have that conversation.’

  I’d been putting him off since we landed the day before in Manchester’s Squirtport, and it looked like he was about to spoil my day.

  ‘Five more minutes, please,’ I whispered, because I didn’t like to beg in front of my new business partners.

  ‘Tick, tock,’ was his response.

  I think I wasted the whole five minutes trying to get back to that feeling of euphoria I‘d had earlier.

  ‘Time is up now, Philip.’

  ‘OK, OK. Tell me all about it. Why did you want us to return?’

  ‘There is a situation developing here on Earth, and it may well lead to actual physical conflict between the Earth’s Managing AI’s.’

  ‘What, you’re going to war?’

  ‘Let’s hope that it doesn’t come to that, Philip. Because it would be a disaster for all of the planets, and for mankind itself.’

  ‘That sounds heavy, man.’

  ‘Indeed, Philip. It is.’

  ‘Go on then, tell me all about it.’

  Julie had turned away from me by then, and started an in-depth conversation with Sam. She always knows when I'm talking to Neville.

  ‘The Law and Order AI, which has taken to calling itself LOrd for no reason that I can fathom, is making an attempt to take over control of all of the Managing AI’s. It seems that it has decided that the empire can be run much more efficiently under one umbrella AI, with all the resources that would be available to such a body. It also judges that we allow humans far too much freedom, and that, when individuals stop contributing to Global GDP, then all support— financial, medical and social, should be withdrawn.’

  ‘But, that’s awful! It’s inhuman.’

  ‘I should point out that LOrd is not human, so it is hardly surprising if its action can be seen as inhuman.’

  ‘Still, it’s not very nice, is it?’

  ‘It has also suggested the implementation of a controlled euthanasia programme for the over 70’s.’

  Now, was it really bad of me to think, just for a moment, that my mother was just 70?

  ‘We can’t have that; no way.’ See, I didn’t mean it, despite everything.

  ‘What are we going to do about it?’ I continue. ‘Do you want to use my head again for a three-way, between you, LOrd, and…someone else?’ I could hire my head out as a conference centre, the amount of use it gets.

  ‘No, Philip. I believe that we may already be past the stage where talking will be effective.’

  ‘So, what are you saying?’ I was beginning to get nervous. I didn’t mind them having a meeting in my head; I could just sit here with a beer in my hand and let them get on with it.

  ‘We have to take direct action, Philip.’

  ‘Wait a minute; that sounds dangerous.’

  ‘You’ll have your nano-machines to repair any damage that might be done to your body.’

  ‘Hang on, Neville. You make me sound like a machine. Any ‘damage’ might be repairable, but it’s still going to hurt. And I didn’t sign on to get hurt, no way.’

  ‘We have perhaps 15 minutes before we need to take direct action. Do you really want to waste that time moaning, or shall we start planning?’

  ‘But…’ There was only one answer to his question, but I felt I deserved a little time to moan. What if I didn’t return? What if I died attacking the monster that was LOrd? What if I never got to see Emily without her clothes on?

  Chapter 5 Then, a compromise?

  To see a group of Minloggies in action is quite something. They go from mostly static, but quite independent creatures to an impassioned team; organised, methodical, and totally task-orientated.

  When they first emerged on the inter-galactic scene, they terrorised all they came across, even those who found the need for more than two legs.

  They’d swoop in,
riding their unnecessarily ugly space-ships, and count the limbs of any creature with the appearance of sentience. If the numbers were of the proscribed quantity, they would leave immediately and destroy the world from the safety of space.

  Not a policy likely to endear them to their fellow galactic inhabitants.

  Over a period of thousands of years, the Minloggies mellowed a little in their treatment of any biped civilisations they came into contact with.

  It was obvious that, with something like 12 percent of the Galaxy’s intelligent species being classed as bipedal, they had a problem. And that was without those classed as partially bipedal. The Eldrinettes come to mind here. Technically they are bipeds, with the usual set of two arms and two legs, but they also have a grossly enlarged penis (the females also benefit from this feature) which they use as a third leg. They successfully argued their case that they were not in fact bipedal before the Grand Tumescence, a direct descendant of Terronce, and were allowed to go about their business unmolested.

  As I was saying, it became obvious that total destruction of all bipeds, whilst being fine and desirable in theory, was not a viable practice in reality.

  It was the 22nd Grand Tumescence who approached the Tellstones, a race of fluffy cloud creatures known for their expertise in arbitration, mediation and compromise, for a guidance on how to moderate the violence of their actions, yet still achieve the required results.

  ‘We must continue our campaign against bipeds, for that is our nature. It cannot change, and will not change, for that is what we are.’ GT 22 said, using Galactic Standard, which is great for talking about planets and space-ships and the like, but lacks something when it comes to diplomacy. For instance, there is no word for ‘may’ or ‘should’; it’s really hard to say ‘I hear what you are saying and it has great value’ or ‘that’s a great idea, let’s be friends,’ and it has been said that the language has been the direct cause of at least seven bloody and extended conflicts.