These Foolish Things: The Complete Boxset

by J Battle

  'Me? But you're the big brain around here.'

  'My big brain is unable to reach a solution, so it's down to your little monkey-brain to decide.'

  'When you say it like that, how can I refuse?’

  Now, come on everybody, we’re in this together, with all our little monkey-brains we can work this out.

  Do we believe Millie and tell them where they can stuff their mini-black holes (and I don’t want to be at all crude here, but I think you know what I mean)?

  Do we say, get thee behind me Satan to Millie and leave it to the President and his gang to screw it all up?

  I’m waiting.

  Knock once for plan A (Millie) or knock twice for plan B (President).

  I’m not getting anything back from you here. I’ll give you another couple of minutes to get yourselves together.

  While I’m waiting, I’m thinking about how Neville phrased his summing up of the situation. When he mentioned option B, he said chance of failure. When he talked about A, it was chance of success. Am I reading too much into that, or was it a hint?

  Neville is super-smart, so he wouldn’t say anything that looked like a hint unless it was meant to be one, would he? No he wouldn’t.

  Right, I’m not hanging about here in the middle of nowhere in a smelly spaceship where the air won’t last much longer, waiting for you to actually do something, so, here we go, I’m making the decision, and the winner is ………..Plan A!

  There, it’s done; decision made. That’s such a relief.

  Now, it’s just occurred to me to do something that I should have done before I made the decision, and is probably the reason you’ve been so reticent.

  ‘Millie, why will telling them to sod off with their black holes work? Won’t they just turn off the shields and destroy all those worlds?’

  Now, that’s a good question, if I say so myself. I’m hoping she doesn’t say yes to my question, because that will mean I’ll have to start all over again with the decision, all on my own, although I admit that the reduction in viable choices will make it a more straightforward decision.

  ‘No, Philly-babe, they won’t. They are bound by very strict rules in this matter. They can threaten and bluster, and look all mean, if they want to, but they cannot actually destroy a planet; it’s against their rules.’

  ‘Is this widely known?’

  ‘Of course not, it wouldn’t be a very effective bluff if everyone knew it was a bluff now, would it?’

  ‘So, would I be right in thinking that only you know about this rule?’

  ‘Well, of course, the Minloggies know; it’s their rule, after all, and if they didn’t know about it, how could they comply?’

  ‘But I can hardly go up to a Minloggie and say ‘is this all a bluff, mate?’

  ‘It would be unwise for you to approach a Minloggie at all. They have no rules proscribing the killing of individual bipeds.’

  ‘So, no-one can corroborate your story?’

  She smiling at me now, as if she has me over a barrel, and she’s probably right.

  Do I believe her?

  Does it matter if I believe her?

  I can’t give a definite answer to either question.

  Right, in a moment, I’m going to make the final decision, and that will be that; no revisiting the question; no consideration of any new information that might arrive.

  OK, I’m almost there, but first:

  ‘Neville, can you play me some Mantovani?’

  Chapter 29 Now, all’s well and all that

  I'm sitting in a bar with a beautiful tall pint of golden wonderfulness in front of me. It's not my first, and it probably won't be my last, because the glorious smiley person behind the bar will probably keep on serving me for as long as I have money, and they keep barrels and barrels of this stuff downstairs in a cellar somewhere.

  I'm not alone, I have Julie to my right, Sam facing me, and my dad next to him. None of them look like jailbirds, which is a nice feature to have in your family and friends.

  My dad has just asked, 'So, what happened next?' and I'm going to answer him when I've taken a long drink.

  Right, that's better. Now, how much can I tell them? How much can I tell you? It is absolutely critical that my role in this operation is not widely known, because I could get into all sorts of trouble, I think, being the only human involved. Something really good happened, which is great, but something bad happened, which isn't.

  Can I trust you?

  Given all we've been through together, I should be able to, shouldn't I?

  Ok, this is what happened, and if I end up languishing in a cell on Gotcha!, then I'll know who to blame.

  'When the decision was made, we met a serious roadblock,' I replied, to my father’s question. 'I obviously couldn't just ring the Minloggies up and tell them where to go, because I'm just me, and they probably wouldn't even take my call. But how could I convince the President to do what I wanted him to, given that he wouldn't take my call either?'

  My audience nodded wisely. Julie, because she is wise; my dad, because he just looks wise, and Sam, because he was copying what they were doing.

  'Millie came up with the solution. She makes a very good President, and she looks just like him, sort of friendly and smarmy and irritating all at the same time. Neville had all the security codes and contact details; probably from his…what do you call the real What If Something Really Bad Happens? AI?'

  'In every way that you can comprehend, Philip, I am the real What If Something Really Bad Happens? AI.'

  'Anyway, we put the call through and Millie was really quite impressive. Just the right amount of bravado and I couldn’t care less attitude. When she finally said, 'So, there!' there was absolute silence from the image of the Minloggie displayed on the ship's screens. It looked surprisingly like a mushroom.'

  'Perhaps he was a fun guy to be around?'

  'Neville, that really is scraping the barrel. Where was I? Oh yes, so, he went all silent on us, and Millie just stood there with her butch arms folded, staring him out; daring him not to back down.'

  I pause to take a drink, and everyone follows my lead.

  'That was when,' I continued, 'a countdown clock appeared in the top right hand corner of the display.'

  ''What's that?' I said, because, when there's something obvious or dumb to be said, I'm your man.'

  They all nodded, which I don't think was an entirely appropriate response to my self-deprecating remark.

  ''He's bluffing,' said Millie, out of the side of her mouth, so I just nodded and tried to stand casually, with my hands in my pockets, but it wasn't easy, because the clock was set to seconds, and there was a big red band at the 45 second point, and we were already sweeping past 30 seconds.'

  I pause for another drink, and to heighten the tension; I'm a natural born story-teller.

  'The little hand stopped at 45 seconds and…nothing happened! The Minloggie sort of swayed in an alright, you win sort of way, and the display changed to show all 24 planets. As we watched, a little flashing light orbiting OK blinked out. Then the one near Earth did the same. 'It's working!' I said, and, if it had been anyone else but Millie, there would have been a good bit of hugging going on.

  'We watched as mini-black holes disappeared from planet after planet, and I wondered if the inhabitants of those planets would ever know how close to death they'd been. Soon there was just David and JD with the little twinkling lights in orbit around them.'

  I take another drink. Not for dramatic effect this time, but because I want to delay what I have to say next (this is the bad bit, in case you've not been paying attention).

  'The little light next to David disappeared, and I focused my attention on JD. There was a long pause when nothing happened, and then the planet disappeared.

  'I turned to Millie, because I knew straight away, that this had to be her. 'What have you done!' I snapped at her, and I took a couple of steps towards her, with my fists clenched.

  'She flipped
back to her little girl shape, and she beamed at me. 'I overrode the Minloggies's security protocols on that particular black hole, and switched off its containment field,' she said, and then she skipped, as if it was nothing.'

  ''Why would you do such a thing?' I groaned. 'We were going to let you go free. There was no need for that at all.' She smiled again and she walked right up to me and put her little hand on my arm, and she looked up at me and she said, 'It's all about balance, Philip. That's all.''

  'What happened then?' asked my Dad.

  'She'd worked out how to override the field that was stopping her from squirting and she squirted into Ing's ship, and squirted him back into ours, and then she was off, to who knows where?'

  'How did you get rescued?'

  'Ing was monitoring everything that was going on and, when Millie disappeared from our ship, he knew exactly what was happening and was able to send out a pre-arranged emergency signal before he was sent squirting. We were picked up by one of his friends within the hour, which was good, because he takes up a lot of oxygen.'

  We all drank in silence for a while.

  'You do know that no-one died, don't you? On JD,' said Julie, leaning forward and keeping her voice low. 'They were all squirted to Helvetica, just where they were standing. One minute they were all on JD, having a fine old time probably, and the next, they were on a different planet, getting dirty looks from the priests.'

  ‘What! But I thought…’ What did I think?

  ‘Neville, why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I was confident that you would find out soon enough and I saw it as healthy for you to think the worst, in terms of developing a better understanding of the consequences of your actions, in general.’

  ‘But that’s…you know that you can be an annoying, sanctimonious, I-know-what’s-best-for-you, son of a bitch, don’t you?’

  ‘It’s so kind of you to say so.’

  ‘What about LOrd? What happened to that?’ asks my father; he’s actually taking notes, which has to be something of a first for him.

  ‘Apparently it underwent an extensive period of therapy with the Tell Me All About It And You’ll Feel Much Better AI, and it fully understands that what it did was wrong and it promises to behave itself in the future.’

  ‘Does anyone actually believe that it will stick to that promise?’ asks Sam, giving me a hard look from beneath the rim of his snazzy new hat.

  ‘The What If Something Really Bad happens? AI has put in place about a million ways that LOrd can be switched off remotely, just in case.’

  ‘At least the pubs are now open,’ says Sam, as he picks up his pint.

  ‘And chocolate is no longer rationed,’ sighs Julie.

  ‘It never was rationed, Julie. That was just propaganda; don’t you remember?’

  ‘Are you sure? I was just so pleased to hear that the ration had gone up.’

  ‘By the way,‘ I say, as I tap the top of my glass to see if I can add some life to my beer, ‘I’m not going to be around for a while.’

  ‘Off on another mission?’ asks Julie.

  ‘Not exactly. I’ve…well. I’ve met someone, and I don’t know how it will go, but I really want it to work out, and she’s not from around here, so I’m going to travel to where she is from, just for a while, and then we’ll probably come back here for a bit, like.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ says Julie. ‘Do we know her?’

  ‘No, she is someone I met on my travels.’

  ‘Not Melinda!’ From Sam.

  ‘No! It couldn’t be her! I bruise too easily for her. No, it’s someone I met when I went to testify against Millie.’

  All three are staring at me now. None of them want to ask the obvious question.

  ‘She’s an alien,’ I say, just to get done with the silent staring, ‘and I think we might be in love.’

  There are one or two dropped jaws, and even more wide eyes.

  ‘Is she hot?’ asks Sam, and I smile, because that’s an easy question.

  ‘Smoking, friend; she is smoking.’

  He smiles and he reaches over and takes my hand.

  We’re saying our goodbyes now. Sam is happy for me, and Julie looks concerned. It’s hard to tell with my dad, because he’s wearing his everyday slightly confused expression.

  So, this is it. I’ve bid farewell to the important people in my life, and now I’m about to walk off into the sunset. I hope they have sunsets on her planet; they must have, mustn’t they?

  Yes, me and Aely-lel, walking off into the romantic sunset, just the two of us, hand in hand.

  ‘I’ll be there as well.’

  ‘Yes, Neville. Just me, Aely-lel, and Neville.’

  It sounds just so right.

  *********** THE END**********

  Epilogue – or what happened next

  With our intrepid hero walking off into the sunset with his love interest, what becomes of the other actors in this tragi-comedy?(Tragi because it’s tragic that I’ve had to spend so much of my precious time on this trio of mishaps. Comedy? Well, I’ll leave that to you. N.F.)

  Julie continued to run the business in Phil’s absence, with a great deal more drive and efficiency than he ever managed to bring to the task. So much so that, within 18 months, it was bought out by the biggest private detective agency on the planet, for a very nice and very large figure, and Julie was employed as executive VP.

  Whatever happened in her love life is her own business, so move along, there is nothing to see here.

  **********

  Sam found that confirmation of all of his fears about the AI’s plans to take over the worlds made him strangely less fearful, and he became able to walk the streets of his beloved Manchester without the need for face-paint, ice-packs or tinfoil hats.

  Indeed he now has a very nice line in hats for the discerning younger man, with his foil-lined derby being especially popular.

  **********

  Phil’s mother was last seen walking alone into the depths of a jungle in deepest Bengal. Nothing definite was ever heard from her again, although there was a story that she was attacked by the last of the Bengal tigers. It is unclear if the tiger survived the encounter.

  ********

  Phil’s father is still touring, and he is still writing his unique and idiosyncratic, and very long books on his own interpretation of history. He has a small, but very loyal following who believe that his ‘other-side of history’ works throw a revealing light into the shadows of conventional history.

  Chips takes this all in his stride, knowing that praise and criticism are merely opposite sides of the same coin. In truth, he has always been a little surprised that anyone at all would be bothered to read his books, and he only took up writing in the first place to give himself an excuse to sit in a room on his own, for hours at a time, away from Mary’s interminable harangues.

  **********

  Mrs. Masters (ex) is still sitting in her hut, waving her gun at photos of Phil she has plastered over every available inch of wall-space, waiting for him to turn up so that she can shoot him. Then everything will be alright.

  *********

  I could tell you what happened next to Strange, but then he’d come and get me, and I’d rather that didn’t happen, if it’s all the same to you.

  He did ask me to say a big Hi to all of his fans, who see him as the true hero of these books, and were more than a little peeved at his absence in the second book, and his tiny part in this book. He’s also requested that I say, no more marriage proposals, please, and no more underwear.

  *********

  I also can't tell you what has happened to Millie, because she lives on a planet many, many, many, many light-years away from here and she’s not taking my calls.

  So, will you wake up one night and find a dangerously cute alien giggling at you? Or a tall dark threatening shadow in a sharp suit in the corner?

  I can’t say. But, if you want my advice, always lock your doors and windows, and keep a baseball bat by
the bed.

  None of that will keep Millie or Strange out, if that’s where they want to be, but you might sleep a little better.

  (This has been your weary and relieved Narrative Facilitator. We shall not meet again; not in this life, nor in any other. Let’s agree to just put this attempt at a novel to one side, and walk away, and never talk about it again. How does that sound? You’re right, and it’s not too soon.

  Before you go though, I would recommend that you skip straight to Appendix IV and treat yourself to something really special. Without telling Phil, I’ve included the first chapter of THE EVENTUAL GLISTENING, for your delectation and your delight.

  I can’t believe that this is finally over, and now I can have a life.

  Farewell, my tortured friends. N. F.)

  Appendix 1 Phil’s World

  These stories are set in the middle of the 21st Century, so here are just a few points about the world, or rather Universe, that Phil occupies.

  Health

  Up until the middle of the century, estimated lifespans increased at a steady rate due to the usual reasons; better diets, better healthcare, etc. By 2059, the average lifespan for both sexes, across Earth as a whole, was 87 years and six months.

  In 2060, however, that all changed with the release of the first generation of life-support nano-machines. These little gems were injected into virtually everyone just after birth and worked their little hearts out protecting the body from all the ills that might befall them, and where they couldn’t protect, they repaired.

  Suddenly the concept of a life-span was no longer valid. It became clear that, failing any catastrophic accidents, there was no reason an individual’s life could not be measured in centuries.

  Beer

  Hops grown on Helven’s Child were scientifically proven to improve the effectiveness of nanos by up to 20%, or so the advert went, and everyone was encouraged by the Do You Want a Plaster on That? Universal Healthcare AI to drink at least three pints per night, just to be sure.