The Final Correction

by Alec Birri

  Two breaths were needed after stating that nonsense. Maybe her time was closer than the professor had first thought?

  Alex went on. ‘Which is why I’m pleased to announce my party’s full support of the government’s programme to ensure all of society is treated and as soon as possible.’

  ‘But you just implied the treatment could be a ruse to create a master race?’

  ‘Exactly. Which is why we need to have access to everyone’s thoughts – it’s the only way we’re going to get to the bottom of the monster’s plans. And anyway, in the interests of equality, isn’t it right that everyone should be able to benefit from the treatment’s more positive aspects?’

  The news reporters looked at each other.

  ‘But surely, giving the state access to everyone’s thoughts is just as unsettling as what you’re accusing the professor of? And anyway, merging can’t be forced – both parties have to agree to it first.’

  ‘That is true, but then he who has nothing to hide…’ Alex signalled to her Aaide and the robot moved in front of her as she prepared to leave.

  ‘But what about the professor’s warnings on artificial intelligence? And what exactly did he agree with the terrorist organisations? And can we talk about the Green Party’s manifesto? The elec—’

  Savage switched off the television.

  ‘Very clever, Alex.’ He looked out of the window. ‘Very clever indeed.’

  Noise from a spy-hole cover being moved made him face the cell’s door. It opened.

  ‘Sorry to bother you, Sir John, but the prison’s governor would like to see you.’

  ‘The governor, no less!’ Savage walked up to the Astaff. ‘Any news on something just a little more pressing than a social visit?’ The robot stared back in silence.

  The professor didn’t bother prying any further. They commenced the journey, and he spent the time musing on why those inmates who spotted him didn’t immediately hurl abuse. The unconscious placement of the occasional hand on a belly explained it.

  Prisoner and escort reached the prison’s administrative section. Savage’s eyes moved from door to door as they traversed the corridors in the hope of identifying a server room. He was so busy learning the layout of the place that it was a while before he realised it was deserted – no secretarial, clerical or any other admin staff for that matter. Their computer terminals were absent too.

  They rounded a corner and the sight of two be-suited and heavy-set men standing in front of a door marked “GOVERNOR” made Savage realise the man inside had little if any interest in the facility’s operations.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mr President.’

  ‘Dammit! I was hoping to surprise you.’ Kalten glared at his two secret service agents. ‘I told you no one in England wears Ray-Bans indoors. Get out!’ The men-in-black looked at each other before leaving the room.

  Savage scanned it. ‘How did you get in unnoticed? Come to think of it, how did you get into the country unnoticed? There’s nothing about an official visit on the news.’

  ‘Same way some convicts leave a prison, of course – back of a laundry van.’

  Savage turned his head to one side. ‘What’s happened to your accent?’

  ‘Well, being a “good ol’ boy” might get the voters out in the Deep South, but when it comes to the world’s stage, I thought something a bit more mid-Atlantic would be appropriate. Drink?’

  Savage smiled at the bottle of Macallan. It helped mask his mirth at what he was hearing – a redneck impersonating a southern gentleman impersonating the actor, Cary Grant.

  Kalten offered a glass, but Savage just looked at the whisky.

  ‘Don’t worry, there’s nothing in it there shouldn’t be.’ He studied his captive. ‘Or perhaps you’re no longer capable of neutralising a sedative?’

  Savage didn’t answer and closed his eyes while savouring the single malt’s aroma. He opened them again. ‘World’s stage?’

  ‘Of course. If I’m to be the planet’s saviour, then it’s only right the chosen one should be suitably rewarded.’

  ‘The chosen one. Saviour.’ The professor proposed a toast to megalomania and the President accepted.

  Kalten put down his glass and picked up a tablet computer. ‘Got to hand it to you, Johnny. I always thought these things were good for little more than watching clips of funny animals or playing games but how you’ve taken Mengele’s work to a whole new level is nothing short of astonishing. You promised I wouldn’t be disappointed and you were right. Not only can I change my accent whenever I feel like it but everything else about me too – just as soon as my engineers get around these darn timers.’

  Savage poured himself another drink. ‘That would be inadvisable – the timers are there for a reason. Access the more extreme capabilities too soon, and your plans for world domination could be thwarted by something as simple as a cardiac arrest.’

  Kalten smiled. ‘You think I care about this body? This over-sized, over-engineered hunk of an ex-knucklehead? You might be decades ahead of me in intelligence, but we’re the same physically – living on borrowed time, thanks to our maker.’ He moved to sit in the governor’s chair but scowled at it instead. ‘At least you can use the average piece of furniture.’

  ‘You’ve come a long way and in a great deal of secrecy.’ Savage looked at the office’s entrance. ‘I take it you can’t be bothered with the legal process of an extradition, and I’m about to be bundled into the back of the laundry vehicle you mentioned earlier.’

  Kalten appeared offended. ‘Good God, no. The world might be keen to bring you to justice on charges of treason and genocide but what I need can be sorted right here and now.’ He handed over the tablet.

  Savage tried merging with it but soon realised it wasn’t connected to anything. He looked back up to be met by one of the President’s unsettling grins.

  ‘Despite the treatment, compared to you I’m still stupid, but not that stupid.’ He gestured at the iPad. ‘The protocols, if you please.’

  ‘Protocols?’

  Kalten dropped the smile. ‘Don’t be coy. The protocols needed to access the AI that controls the world’s trading centres, defence systems, medical facilities and anything else you’ve seen fit to put beyond a human being’s reach.’

  ‘But you already have them.’

  ‘Nice try, Johnny. You know full well we did have them but surprise surprise, that changed the moment you were arrested.’

  Savage hid his concern. He had hoped the feared level of AI consciousness would be localised, but that clearly wasn’t the case.

  ‘And if I refuse?’

  ‘Then my plans to wipe out Islam for good must go on hold while our experts find a way around them, but in the meantime and in the interests of international diplomacy, I’ll agree to hand you over to the Israelis – assuming the state still exists.’

  The professor studied the iPad. ‘You’ll be wiped out, you know. You won’t stand a chance.’

  ‘What? Against a bunch of ragheads?’

  ‘No, against our new master.’

  Chapter Four

  ‘Come on – choose.’

  James looked at his wife. ‘Tracy, I see little enough of you two as it is. Can’t I make the decision later? It’s not as if there’s too much to do in this place.’

  She shook the device at him. ‘The appeal is less than a month away. If you don’t want us visiting you in a virtual prison, then at the very least choose somewhere a bit more comfortable – come on.’

  James groaned and exchanged his son for the tablet. He then tutted at the page being displayed and minimised it, revealing the location Tracy had in mind underneath. ‘Paris? What’s wrong with our flat in London?’

  ‘Too many bad memories and too small for a growing family. Besides, after what you’ve just pu
t us through, it’s time for some romance, and Paris fits that bill nicely.’

  ‘Not to mention luxuriously. The Neuilly-sur-Seine is one of the most expensive parts. Just as well it’s not real. And what are we supposed to do once we get there?’

  Tracy couldn’t hide her enthusiasm. ‘Start our own psychology practice, of course! You dealing with the troubled thoughts of the rich and famous while your glamorous and multi-talented business partner juggles that with the needs of our new babies.’ John squealed. ‘See? Even our son agrees.’

  ‘Somehow, the thought of pretending to be a renowned psychologist doesn’t quite appeal as much as actually being one.’

  ‘Oh come on, darling. It’s only for three years and maybe less than that. Who knows – we might not want to come back at the end of it.’ Tracy considered that. ‘I wonder if what the professor needed us for would have fitted in with staying there?’

  As if on cue, Savage entered the prison’s visiting room. He caught their eye and smiled at them both before disappearing into one of the private booths reserved for lawyers and their clients.

  Tracy responded in kind, but James didn’t. ‘I’d certainly like to get into that mind to see what’s going on in it.’ He turned back to Tracy. ‘Changing pacifists into Nazis and now gay men into straight means he must have done something to us too, but I’m damned if I can think what it is. Thank goodness I stopped taking the medication when I did.’

  ‘You don’t think that makes you as paranoid as a certain Brian Passen once was? If it’s any consolation, I can’t see a difference.’ Tracy raised their baby up to her face. ‘And nor can Johnny.’ She rubbed her nose against his. ‘Daddy’s always been Mr Grumpy, hasn’t he?’ Their son giggled. James chuckled too before looking back down at the iPad. He maximised the page Tracy had first presented him with.

  ‘Blue.’

  Tracy wasn’t impressed by her husband’s choice. ‘Blue? Blue eyes? You’ll be telling me you want our daughter to have blonde hair next.’

  ‘Congratulations, Prime Minister!’ Savage greeted his visitor with a grin but, unlike Tracy, didn’t get a smile in return. ‘What’s the matter, Tarquin? The foregone conclusion of becoming the Conservative Party’s new leader not enough? What part of your master plan isn’t working as well as hoped?’

  Tarquin pushed a sheet of paper across the table. The professor glanced at the robot standing behind his fellow Old Etonian before sitting in front of it.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘The latest opinion polls.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And they quite clearly show that with less than four weeks to a general election, all three parties are on thirty per cent.’

  Savage looked, but he couldn’t read it – he needed a pair of glasses. ‘One has to admire Ms Salib. She’s taken the Greens from virtual obscurity to serious contention for government.’

  ‘Not now they’ve released their manifesto. Talk about the longest political suicide note in history – in parts, it is quite literally that.’ Tarquin gestured to his Aaide, and it passed the professor a bright green booklet.

  Savage already knew what it contained and pretended to read the summary: ‘Disbandment of Parliament, the House of Lords and the armed forces; abolition of the monarchy; dismantling of all financial structures, including banks and businesses, to be replaced by craft and farming collectives designed to satisfy compulsory veganism – seems very reasonable to me.’

  ‘Joke all you want, John. Read the section on Law Encouragement.’

  The professor knew what that contained too. ‘Compulsory euthanasia for criminals.’ He smirked. ‘How could anyone possibly have a problem with that?’

  ‘Take it seriously, John. If it wasn’t for their unelectable nonsense, the Greens would pose a serious threat. As it is, the pollsters forecast their vote is likely to be split evenly between the Labour Party and us.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And, we’re back to square one – a hung parliament.’

  Savage sat back. ‘Well, I did warn you there was little time to, er, encourage the electorate to do the right thing, so it’s hardly surprising.’

  A silence followed. Savage raised his eyebrows as if willing his childhood friend to say what was on his mind. Tarquin began to but then appeared to have second thoughts. He was unsettled.

  ‘Is it true?’ Savage didn’t answer. ‘Is it true my oldest friend is actually…’ Tarquin cleared his throat. ‘Joseph Mengele?’

  Another period of silence. Savage sensed Tarquin’s attempt to merge before the prison’s AI forced him to abandon it.

  ‘What’s troubling you, Prime Minister? Worried how the newspapers are likely to report that, just before a general election?’

  Tarquin took his hand from his stomach and pulled himself together. ‘I can’t fight off the Americans and Israelis forever. You need to show contrition, and you can start by revealing the protocols we need.’

  ‘Curing ninety per cent of the world’s ailments not enough, eh?’

  ‘The whole world will soon know what’s really been going on and you need to understand that.’

  ‘Understand? Let me tell you what I understand – my oldest friend attempting to blackmail me. That’s what I understand.’

  ‘Don’t think I took that decision lightly, John. I have a great deal of respect for you and despite everything that’s happened, still do, but I love this country more and will stop at nothing to protect it – what’s currently going on in the rest of Europe must never be allowed to spread to English shores.’ Tarquin thought it serious enough to threaten his friend. ‘Even if the accusation of your being a Nazi eugenicist turns out to be nonsense, a charge of treason will stick, and even our manifesto punishes that with compulsory euthanasia.’

  Savage needed to stretch his legs, so got up from the table. His knees creaked in response. He walked over to the Aaide and studied its features. ‘Mengele had a lot to say about countries. He supported a theory their existence was no different to anything else evolution has produced – a cradle-to-grave life cycle.’ He turned back to Tarquin. ‘Has it ever occurred to you that, like France, Italy, Germany, Spain and the rest of the first world, this once great nation might actually be coming to its natural end?’

  Chapter Five

  Sunita studied her artificial opposite. ‘Amazing. She could almost be human.’

  ‘She?’

  ‘Well, you know what I mean.’

  Alex took a breath from the oxygen mix. ‘It’s no different to any other electronic device, Suni. A means to an end – nothing more. The day we start falling for Savage’s nonsense is the day we become no better than him.’

  ‘Savage? I thought you said he was Joseph Mengele?’

  ‘Savage, Mengele – whatever the truth, neither can harm the world anymore and both will be getting what’s coming to them.’

  Sunita grinned and turned back to the robot. She merged with it. The Aaide passed her a security update. ‘It’s quite fit to look at. I wonder what it can do with its tongue?’

  ‘I’m surprised you haven’t discovered that already.’

  ‘Of course not. That would mean being unfaithful to you.’

  Alex stopped typing and took another breath. ‘A rubber doll doesn’t count, Suni, but if you must use government property as a sex-aid, just be aware the likes of MI5 and GCHQ will soon know about it.’

  Sunita scoffed. ‘I’ll be glad when they and all the rest have been consigned to history.’ Her concern changed. ‘Why wouldn’t you be jealous? I would.’

  ‘Don’t be naive – feelings for robots is something else Savage wants us to—’ The iPad was knocked from her lap. ‘For fuck sake! Can’t you control that thing? Doesn’t it have a cage or something?’

  ‘I thought you loved animals?’

 
‘Not when I’m trying to write the most important speech of my life. What the hell is it doing here in the first place?’

  ‘He’s not very well, and the others pick on him.’ Sunita merged with the Capuchin. The monkey scampered over and brushed its cheek against hers before crawling back to his bed. Sunita retrieved the tablet and knelt beside Alex with it.

  ‘Do you love me?’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘Then say it.’

  Alex tried taking the iPad but couldn’t. ‘Suni, we leave for Germany first thing in the morning, and I have to finish this speech.’

  ‘Say it.’

  Alex went to take another breath, but Sunita covered the supply. A coughing fit caused the Aaide to rush over and put Sunita on her back. Alex lunged at the oxygen like someone on the brink of drowning. She glared at her partner.

  ‘Don’t ever do that again!’

  Sunita hid her pain. ‘Let’s go to bed.’

  ‘Later.’

  ‘I’ve got some really good weed.’

  ‘I don’t need it anymore.’ A knuckle rapped the oxygen cylinder.

  Sunita stared at the tank.

  She perked up. ‘Watch this!’

  Alex sighed. ‘What now?’

  ‘You’re not looking – watch.’

  Alex turned to see what was so important. There was something different about her partner. ‘Is that a new tattoo?’

  Sunita covered her face with both hands. ‘And now… drum roll if you please…’ She took her hands away. ‘Ta-da!’

  ‘How did you do that?’

  Sunita grinned as her tattoos morphed from Maori, to gothic, to pagan, and then a monkey any face-painter would have been proud of. The Capuchin screeched its disapproval and so did Alex – with a shake of her head.