by Alec Birri
‘What? Who gives a fuck about that?’ He stood in front of his friend. ‘How am I supposed to run a country without money?!’
The professor drew another breath. ‘You won’t have to.’
Confusion crossed Tarquin’s face, and he took a step back. Savage placed the mask over his mouth again.
Tarquin’s eyes switched between his Aaide and the professor’s Acarer. He muttered, ‘It’s the robots. They’ve got to you somehow.’ His stress was forcing a conspiracy theory. ‘Yes, that’s it. You warned AI would take over the world unless we merged with it and that’s exactly what’s hap—’
Savage interrupted him. ‘My ongoing concerns notwithstanding, I’m afraid it’s the other way around.’
The admission brought Tarquin back to reality but only for the apparent nonsense of it to leave him speechless; his lips moved in silence as if unable to comprehend what he had just heard. ‘You deliberately collapsed the world’s economy?’
‘How old do you think I am?’
The change of subject annoyed Tarquin. ‘We were at Eton together, remember? We’re the same age – what has that got to do with ruining both me and the world?’
Savage shook his head. ‘One-hundred-and-seventeen.’ He raised a hand to his face. He examined both sides of the shaking limb, as though searching for something. ‘I can’t be sure as I only have Uncle Joe’s recollections to rely on, but he was born in 1911, and my embryo fertilised around 1920. And even though I wasn’t born until 1960, burning that candle twice as brightly over the next sixty-eight years has resulted in a body that, despite appearances, is well over a century inside.’
Tarquin scratched his head. He was having difficulty coming to terms with losing his fortune, let alone the ramblings of a man he thought he knew. ‘What has that got to do with putting my family on the streets?!’
‘Well, if I died tomorrow, wouldn’t people say I’ve had a good innings?’ Savage took in the view. London’s skyscrapers filtered the sun setting behind them. ‘They will soon be saying the same of Western civilisation.’
The comment appeared to confuse the Prime Minister more. Savage turned his wheelchair towards him. ‘Just as I’m nearing my end, so is the West.’ He moved closer to Tarquin. ‘And like any animal suffering in its final days, putting Western civilisation out of its misery can only be an act of kindness.’
Tarquin clenched his fists. ‘And a collapse in the world’s stock markets heralds the end, I suppose?’ He stood up. ‘For someone who knows more about the human brain than anyone, you seem to have lost a grip on the basics.’ He loomed over Savage. ‘Your days might be numbered, but no economic shock has ever been terminal to society, no matter how bad. True, it will be a challenge and on a scale like never before, but this is just the kind of disaster a world leader like me…’ He stood back. ‘Yes, that’s it.’ A smile appeared. ‘That will be my legacy – the Prime Minister that saved his country from total disaster.’ He approached the balcony and placed both hands on it. His eyes misted over. ‘Forget Churchill winning the Second World War or Margaret Thatcher the Falklands conflict, it will be the Right Honourable Tarquin Asquith-Bennington PM who will go down in history as this country’s most honoured sibling.’ He seemed to be planning everything from an election victory to the erection of his statue in Parliament Square.
‘I don’t think Alex is going to allow that.’
Tarquin’s mind was elsewhere but gave the comment his attention. ‘What have the Greens got to do with anything? You’ve just caused an economic disaster – the people will want to see a safe pair of hands in charge. The last thing they’ll do is vote in someone sworn to end capitalism.’
‘You’re assuming people will want to vote on election day.’ The professor looked at the floor. ‘Or if it will even be possible.’
Tarquin’s hubris became fear. ‘What have you done?’
‘You’re right, Tarquin, I don’t know as much about the human mind as I should but what I do know is that it will take decades and not years to recover capitalism and I’m afraid that much of the electorate has become addicted to it.’ He looked his friend in the eye. ‘And like many addicts, they’re likely to gravitate towards a fix that doesn’t just satiate their need, but takes them on a trip your pipe dreams cannot hope to match.’
The significance the professor had been looking for sank in. Like the stock markets, Tarquin’s world collapsed. He mumbled, ‘The plough and till. The Greens. The end of capitalism.’ He regarded Savage in the same way he used to at Eton – fear and awe. ‘You haven’t made anyone think right-wing and never intended to. Everyone is thinking left, liberal, pacifist even.’ Pieces began falling into place. ‘You once told me you wanted to help Alex professionally. I had always assumed that that had something to do with her medical condition but now…’ Tarquin narrowed his gaze. ‘What did you agree with Alex exactly?’
Savage sensed the robots had just become interested in the conversation. He turned back to the view.
‘It’s quite something to be born different to those around you. Children can be especially cruel. If you don’t look, sound, play or even think like your fellow human beings, one can soon become ostracised.’ He looked through the wrought-iron railings of the balcony’s parapet and onto the street below. The sight and sound of its traffic was decreasing. ‘At least I had legs to carry me around.’
It was all becoming a bit too surreal for Tarquin. ‘You’re helping Alex because she’s a fellow freak?’
‘Freak. Yes, that was one of the names they called us. Along with Forro, Guero, Guacho. Can’t blame the children really. Candy aside, we had everything they didn’t – better food, accommodation, even a private education. The orphans had it worse, of course – their disfigurements saw to that. Ironic how they readily accepted us as seven of their own. I guess they sensed a certain kindred spirit.’
Tarquin marched over to Savage, grabbed the man’s wheelchair and spun it towards him. ‘What have you agreed with Alex? What is she going to do?!’
Savage ignored the question. ‘And then one day we went to sleep as six-year-olds and woke up with the mind of a man in his mid-fifties.’ He smiled at the recollection. ‘You can’t begin to understand how happy that made us – the one person we loved more than anyone and hoped and prayed could be our real father was not only part of us, but like some guardian angel, there to ensure our destiny was fulfilled.’
The professor looked at the hands restraining him and then Tarquin. He let go.
Savage became less nostalgic. ‘Mengele thought that by waiting until we had got to an age where we were both old enough to cope with the surgery, but young enough to be moulded by its purpose, assimilation would somehow be smoother, but in trying to protect our fragile minds, he ignored the effect on his own. One by one, each of my brothers succumbed to his psychosis, but not me. And when I realised I was the only one not to be driven to an overdose of morphine, everything in my tiny mind became clear. There was no doubt – I had been chosen. Blessed by God himself.’
‘You’re mad. You’ve finally lost it.’
‘It couldn’t last, of course. Mengele tried everything to control me, but an aging man’s thoughts are no match for a growing boy’s, and without the red pill to ease the transition, the few brain cells he implanted were soon rejected, but not before I’d absorbed both his knowledge and a determination to complete my purpose.’ Savage studied his trembling hands. ‘Funny how nature has a way of making us all equal in the end.’
Tarquin calmed. ‘John. What is Alex going to do?’
‘I’m tempted to remind you of what’s in the Green Party’s manifesto, but given her recent performance, I’d say her ambitions lie somewhere above the fortunes of this little island, don’t you think?’
The sound of glass breaking made both men look down onto the street. Something heavy had been put through a car�
��s windshield and Savage tutted at it. ‘One can only hope the incinerators will be able to cope.’
Chapter Four
Alex looked out of the window and onto the body of water beneath. Land either side indicated they were somewhere above the English Channel and landing at Heathrow in around thirty minutes. She went back to the map. ‘How many?’
An Aaide updated her. ‘Depends on the country. Some bunkers aren’t as advanced as others. Ten thousand a day on average.’
‘And how long?’
‘Five-hundred years at the current rate, but now the professor has kept to his word, we’re expecting that to increase ten-fold, so maybe fifty years.’
‘Not quick enough. The planet has ten at most.’
The Aaide’s eyes met Sunita’s and then those of the two men in the suite. ‘The timescale is possible, but only if you drop your objection to—’ The robot wasn’t allowed to complete the sentence.
‘NO! Absolutely not! And I won’t tell you again – the bodies must be allowed to decay naturally.’
‘Demand will quickly overwhelm at least some of the bunkers, Alex, which will mean families entering the Interworld in the lines for them. The risk of vermin and disease is unthinkable. Bodies will have to be burnt sooner or later.’
‘I will not have the final correction of the human race associated with Hitler’s Final Solution!’ Alex clamped her lips around the oxygen tube and sucked on it as hard and as fast as she could.
Sunita tried. ‘We incinerate the bodies of criminals sent permanently to the Interworld, Al. What’s the difference?’
‘Because they’re men, of course!’
The prince glanced at Faruk before interjecting. ‘Forgive this pitiful servant, exulted one, but I believe I may have the answer.’ They all looked at him. He cleared his throat. ‘The angels?’ The Aaide, Alex and Sunita looked at each other. ‘Allah – peace and blessings be upon her – has seen fit to create mighty guardians that are not only capable of producing a path of light for the most holy one to traverse but can alter themselves, anything or anyone into whatever purpose they see fit.’ He averted his eyes from the look he got.
Alex was about to have a go at Hassan when she calmed. ‘You’ve always been a dutiful servant to God, haven’t you?’ Alex smirked. ‘Must have come as quite a shock to discover Allah was a woman.’
Hassan smiled back. ‘It has been my life’s work, exulted one. And to discover the true nature of she who must be obeyed – peace and blessings be upon her – is not for me to question. Just to serve.’
Alex scanned the sumptuous surroundings of his airliner. ‘I think it’s safe to say you have done more than that.’ She leaned towards him. ‘And now it’s time for God to reward you.’
Hassan hesitated as if unable to believe his ears. He glanced at Faruk again before falling to the floor – he couldn’t do it fast enough. He was about to kiss Alex’s feet, but she backed the wheelchair away, so Hassan pressed his face into the carpet instead.
‘A thousand blessings, exulted one, and a thousand more. How can I ever thank you? To be received by Allah herself is every true believer’s dream. To be allowed to ascend to the highest—’
‘Shut up.’
‘Yes, yes, of course, exulted one – peace be—’
‘I said, shut up.’
Hassan fell silent and pushed himself up to his knees. The sight of a prince in such a subservient position appeared surprising to Faruk.
‘Mustn’t keep “she who must be obeyed” waiting.’ Alex was as impatient as the entity apparently was.
Hassan got to his feet and backed towards the exit. He bumped into a table on the way. He reached the door, turned and ran out of the room as fast as he could.
Alex addressed her father next. ‘You’d better make sure he doesn’t trip over his devotion on the way.’ Faruk was about to say something but seemed to think better of it. He left, and Alex went back to the supply she needed.
‘Why are you so rude to him?’
‘Don’t get involved, Suni.’
‘But he’s your father. Hate men all you want but parents should still be allowed at least some respect.’
‘I said, don’t get involved.’ Alex puffed on her oxygen as if smoking a pipe.
Sunita changed the subject. ‘Hassan does have a point.’ Alex glowered as she breathed. ‘If artificial intelligence has reached a stage where it can create something from nothing then presumably it can do the opposite.’
‘Presumably? You mean you don’t know? Why haven’t you merged to find out?’ Alex returned to the map. ‘Given your obsession with sex, and the rate at which artificial intelligence is evolving, the experience should prove to be your most tantric yet.’
Sunita didn’t rise to the bait and glared at Alex’s mechanical advisor. ‘They, or rather it, won’t let me.’ Alex was quizzical, so Sunita shared her concerns. ‘Savage might be out of harm’s way and playing ball as far as ending capitalism is concerned, but he’s still up to something.’ She didn’t take her eyes from the robot. ‘At least I hope it’s him who’s up to something.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Alex.
‘Don’t you think it’s all too easy?’ Sunita turned back to her partner. ‘Persuading people to permanently enter the Interworld either by God or Greed – it’s happening too fast. I think we’re being played in some way.’ Alex was about to answer, but Sunita hadn’t finished. ‘And there’s this…’ She raised her hands. The colour of them went from white to black. She did the same with her face before changing her hair, and not just its colour – dreadlocks formed into the flowing mane of a blonde, the beehive of a brunette and even a shiny bald pate before settling for the original style.
The transformations didn’t surprise Alex. ‘The red pill’s not only about making people fitter, stronger and cleverer, Suni, it’s about equality too. Once we’ve reduced the world’s population to the sustainable levels it needs, prejudice will still exist somewhere and not just racism.’
‘Well, I can see the logic of an ability to empathise with those too impaired to be cured…’ Sunita formed her right arm into the stump of a leprosy sufferer, ‘… but what’s the point of this?’ Her left hand morphed into the head of a fish. ‘Or this?’ It became a cheese grater.
Sunita looked about the room before getting up to study the features of the Aaide more carefully. ‘It’s almost as if the real and the Interworld have become one and the same place.’
Faruk caught up with Hassan at the entrance to the aircraft’s mosque. He grabbed the other man’s arm. ‘Don’t go in there, brother.’
Hassan spoke in a way that was as wild as the look in his eyes. ‘Don’t go in? Are you mad? Deny Allah that most holy of her demands?’ Hassan relaxed. ‘You have performed the wishes of The Prophet – peace be upon him – admirably, my friend, and now it is time for your prince to do the same.’
Faruk didn’t let go. ‘Open that door, and it will be the last thing you do.’
‘Of course it will be the last thing I do – as a man.’ He put a hand on Faruk’s shoulder. ‘There’s nothing to fear. No bridge to cross or even a judgement to be made.’ He looked at the door. ‘Allah has made her choice.’
‘Listen to yourself – her.’ Hassan tried twisting away, but it was pointless; the prince may have completed the treatment, but he was no match for the nature of Faruk’s enhancements. ‘The moment you first told me The Prophet required not just my daughter but me to do his bidding, I had my suspicions. But when I saw what was actually required of Isra, I knew then it had nothing to do with The Almighty and everything to do with The Devil.’
Despite the restraint, Hassan drew himself up and glared at Faruk. ‘Once my queen and I are one, we will try to overlook that blasphemy.’
Faruk released him. ‘Queen?’
‘Yawn
ad-Din, my brother. The battle is about to begin, and God needs this prince to become her king, and as her father, surely you can see the great honour that has been bestowed upon your family?’ Hassan looked down his nose. ‘Why else not just save, but elevate the life of such a vile individual?’
Faruk pointed. ‘Whatever is in there has nothing to do with me or my youngest daughter.’ He indicated in the opposite direction. ‘My eldest is behind this.’
Hassan sympathised. ‘As the father of what at first sight must appear to be beauty and the beast, your reservations are understandable, my friend, but rest assured, just as men and women are merging with robots on Earth, Isra and I are about to combine into the one true God.’
The door opened by itself, and a bright light caused both men to shield their eyes. Hassan took off towards it like a man possessed, but Faruk stayed put. As before, it was impossible to see straight ahead, with only the honour guard visible to the unaided eye. Faruk went through every ability he had, settling for infra-red as the clearest way to see the prince. His shimmering form came to a halt somewhere in front of a young girl that looked like Isra, but Faruk knew couldn’t possibly be. Hassan fell to his knees, but when Faruk magnified his vision to see more, that wasn’t what had happened. Faruk was about to enhance his hearing too, but screams made it unnecessary.
It took the absorption of Hassan’s chest to end his agony and once the floor had taken the prince’s head, the horror ended with the door slamming in Faruk’s face.
Chapter Five
James retched but nothing came out. He collapsed anyway.
‘Everyone does that the first time.’ The nausea eased, but a sense it might be coming through in waves kept James on the floor. ‘Here, take this.’
James squinted at what was being offered. He then peered at Zara. ‘What is it?’
‘Something that might soon be in short supply – you should make the most of it.’ James brought the glass up and sniffed. He sipped some of the water but then vomited. The liquid sank into the floor.
