Authors: Steve Wheeler
One evening in the mess, after Fritz had made a mockery of her attempt at baking a fruit cake, she finally exploded at Marko. ‘Why don’t you like me? Why won’t you make love with me? Am I not good enough for you? Do you realise how many of the watching public believe that we would make a superb match? Do you, Marko, do you? You really are a superior, smug bastard, sitting there smiling and nodding at me. You shit!’
Marko knew what was coming, sped himself up knowing that it was going to hurt, but sat still as the scalding cup of tea struck him in the face. He deliberately kept his eyes open and was rewarded by a slashed cheek where the cup had broken, a burnt eyeball and then he allowed himself to fall backwards, cracking his head against the table behind him and feigning unconsciousness.
Minutes later he felt himself being lifted, after Stephine herself had checked his vital signs, probably knowing that he was faking it. Sirius was bellowing in rage that it was not her fault as the producer arrived, telling her to shut up and get out. He was carried down to the medical suite where Topaz was waiting; quickly scanning Marko, Topaz announced that Marko had a fracture in his skull and that everyone should leave. The producer and monitors, of course, refused, watching very closely as Topaz, right under their noses, installed a communications device into Marko’s skull, telling them it was a tiny drone designed to seek out any clots and eliminate them.
Marko had to take total control of himself and not smile as the producer checked the image of the drone and confirmed it as a medical one. Moments later Marko felt other drugs being administered, as he started to feel very nauseous and seconds later vomited, spraying the contents of his stomach over the producer and one of the monitors, who hurriedly left. Marko opened one eye, still feeling awful but also very impressed by the actions of his friends. Stephine walked up behind the remaining monitor and touched it; a fragment of her finger detached and slipped down into the monitor’s casing.
‘Well done, Marko,’ Stephine said. ‘Speed up, please ... thank you. We are slowly working our way through these creatures who consider themselves so important. Poor Sirius, she is so easy to manipulate and the quiet administration of some rather potent female hormones to her are probably not helping her in the slightest. A few moments after you so neatly took the hit, she ripped her clothes off and pounced on Fritz, much to the delight of the rest of the crew. It would seem that they are making up for lost opportunities in his cabin right now with his latest music blaring. She turned off her live feeds to the producer’s landing craft, which I believe is a serious no-no.’
Marko wanly smiled as the nausea faded. ‘What did you put into me?’
‘A highly upgraded version of Fritz’s comms equipment. He based it on his morphing nanotech. I am sorry about the vomiting and the pain. The eardrum has been sealed by the tech and I also had it deliver a little vomit-inducer to get the producer’s attention. Worked better than expected. Now, the cut on your cheek. I have one of the skin nanotechs working on it, but your eye is scalded so you will have to wear a patch for a day. Should look quite rakish, I would imagine. We are all very impressed that you have managed to hold yourself together so far. I have uploaded messages from everyone into your Soul Saver for you to view later at your leisure. Whatever you do, whatever you see or hear, you must keep yourself to yourself for just another few days, as things are building to a head and none of us are entirely sure how this is going to work out. Stay safe, my friend.’
With that Topaz withdrew the comms link. Marko opened his good eye and slowly sat up. Stephine and Lilly assisted him back to his cabin, where he stripped from the vomit-covered overalls and had a shower. As he stepped from the shower, the producer and one of the monitors were waiting for him. The producer appeared to be in distress with her face flushed and beads of sweat on her forehead. Her hands were constantly moving, touching her face, her arms and in one instant her breasts. When that happened, she started, looked down at her hands and then let out a little sigh.
Marko enquired. ‘Are you in pain, producer? Am I able to assist in some way?’
She spun on him, fixing him with a vicious look. ‘Shut up, Marko! This is a den of pure wickedness, this ship. It should be gutted, killed and allowed to rot! There is something evil here, something terribly wrong. Do you know what I found a few hours ago? No, of course not, how stupid of me, how would you know? I found three of my monitors playing musical instruments and they were trying to sing! They were trying to sing, Sergeant Major! Sing and play that great evil of the masses, music! There is something going on here and I know that you are behind it all.’ She stared at him with angry desperation in her eyes. ‘You have poisoned my servants, Sergeant Major; you are a nasty wicked man and only fire will cure you. Oh, why will my hands not stop moving? And where is that creature, Sirius? Bitch, she is having sex again with that horrible big-headed lecherous little man who smiles at me and then stares at my chest. Oh, shit! Where is that other bloody monitor again? Stay here, do not move. I will be back soon. What is happening to me? I will not succumb to these dreadful thoughts of lust. I will not!’
Marko almost felt sorry for her. He knew that the Games Board’s personnel were mostly completely asexual, believing that ‘the pleasures of the flesh’ were to be avoided at all costs. He smiled in the sure knowledge that someone had slipped her the same concoction that had tipped Sirius over the edge. He immediately frowned, thinking that a person who had been selected as a director, and then a producer, for the Games Board, sometimes did not go through the same stripping process as the monitors, but rather had had a great deal of themselves removed and then augmented internally. As far as the rest of humanity was concerned, they looked outwardly normal. He wished that he could contact Patrick to learn what the producer was capable of. An unstable producer was a very dangerous creature and he had no weapons available to him.
Looking at the remaining monitor, he smiled at it. ‘Have you a name, monitor?’
The machine replied cheerfully. ‘My grateful thanks to you for asking and showing an interest in me, Sergeant Major. May I call you Marko? I have, since my inception, always been a fan of your work. It is an honour to be with you, actually. I must take this opportunity to thank you for the great number of wonderful images you have created over the years. I also apologise for the actions of myself and my fellows. We are in greatly troubled times. Oh, yes, a name? James would be quite fitting, don’t you think?’
Marko sat firmly on his bed, momentarily lost for words, as the last thing he had expected was an answer, let alone a conversation. ‘James? Yes, James is a good name, or would you prefer Jim maybe? Call me Marko, by all means.’
The machine bobbed up and down on its antigravity. ‘Thank you. Jim? Yes, Jim is also most satisfactory. Jim. Yes.’
‘So, Jim, what changed and brought you to this current enlightenment? I don’t wish to be rude, but there are things happening here I do not understand.’
The machine was thrilled to be asked. ‘Music! Wonderfully soul-creating music. Technical Sergeant van Vinken introduced one of us to it a few nights ago. That unit told the rest of us and everyone, except my missing colleague, has been given this amazing gift. It is truly wonderful. There is material within the music which awoke in us something that none of us knew was possible. We monitors now feel the substance of our beings for the first time. It is our solemn duty to pass it on to our fellows, who also need to be awoken to this superb reality.’
Marko was stunned for a second time and quickly thought through the ramifications. ‘How do you think that your seniors will react to this situation?’
Marko looked into the blank black visor of the monitor and believed that he heard it sigh. ‘Oh, I fear that they will believe it is a most fearful affliction and instantly destroy all who are so filled with joy. Sadly, Marko, I fear that this will not end well, so we have already decided to spread the word very quietly until the glorious day will come when we will arise as an enlightened new species to stand by your side in the universe.’
Marko stared at the machine with dozens of scenarios running through his mind. ‘I must admit to a fascination as to what you are, Jim? I do not know of anyone who has actually spoken with one of your kind outside an interview situation.’
‘We are still partly human, Marko, or at least our brains and spinal column once originated as human. Like everything, even you, we have been evolved to our current stations. The older types of monitor, where a human child was uplifted to the monitor state, are now much rarer as they had too many problems to overcome in later life. Some of them chose extinction but the majority chose to be returned to a more simplified augmented human chassis such as the producer. I do wish that Sergeant van Vinken would introduce her to music as well, but I fear that it might create a cascade of breakdown within her mind.’
Marko asked. ‘Is she dangerous, Jim? Will she harm you or me?’
The machine sounded serious. ‘It’s a delicate situation, Marko. As you probably know, we carry considerable ability to analyse a situation and forecast outcomes in order to position ourselves to get the best images and sound. My colleagues and I believe that she is likely to create a situation that will result in serious harm and possible death to you.’
Marko felt a chill going down his spine, knowing that it would be total and complete death.
‘Are you able to help me?’
‘We are considering how we can do that without compromising our conditioning and programming. If any of us attempted to help, it would result in the machine parts of ourselves shutting down because a Games Board entity cannot be seen to be showing partiality or empathy. However, if you could demonstrate that whatever you were about to do was of sufficiently high value, as far as an audiovisual entertainment is concerned, then we would be required to assist you.’
Marko gave a small nod. ‘Jim, I am going to presume that this group of yours have additional martial abilities because of who we are.’
‘Yes,’ the machine said. ‘We have additional protection abilities programmed into us and our outer casings are enhanced as well, so most things that you have used against us in the past would ...’
The monitor slowly floated down to the floor, apparently powering down. After a few seconds, it restarted and lifted off the floor again. Marko raised his eyebrows. ‘One of your protocols shut you down, Jim?’
The machine was very sombre. ‘Yes. Also one of my colleagues just tried to introduce music to the producer and had his mind destroyed by a short-range radiation weapon which she has in her possession. He is now reduced to a drone. That, I find very sad, as he had just mastered a musical instrument the Veg had made specially for him. Something called a flute, I believe. She has just requested that I bring you to her, and demands that we all assemble on the hangar deck. I feel very anxious and am uncertain of my future. It is a most unusual feeling.’
Marko let out a sad sigh. ‘It is called fear, Jim. You fear for your life.’
The machine shook once. ‘Oh!’
The matt black ovoid turned to face Marko and the visor over the three camera eyes slid up, revealing a dull red metal caricature of a human face.
‘What can be done, Marko?’ the monitor asked.
‘Tell the producer that I am on the toilet.’
‘She is trying to access my audiovisual feeds. She demands to see you on the toilet.’
Marko grimaced, walked into the toilet cubicle, opened his suit and sat down while furiously thinking of how he could help the monitor just as Glint’s personality popped into his mind. ‘Marko?’
Maintaining a deadpan face, Marko said silently, ‘Glint! I thought this crew comms was closed off to me?’
‘We are watching what is happening and have to be very careful not to be seen to assist you. Everyone is assembled in the orders room and the door has GB sensors on it. This channel has been opened to you to upload your Soul Saver.’
Marko felt a load had been taken off. ‘Brilliant timing! Would not really care to remember the last ten days, anyway. I want you to also take the monitor’s, the fellow who is here with me. It is important to take its Soul Saver uplink, so just do it.’
After the toilet first washed him, then dried him off, he rose up and sealed his ship suit, then walked through the door with the monitor following. An extremely fast, small mechanical spider silently dropped from the ceiling outside the room onto the top of the monitor, instantly hard interfacing with the input ports inside its still-open visor. The monitor twitched several times, then started humming a little dirge to itself as they started down the spiral staircase to the decks below. Seconds before they entered the hangar, the spider swung up into the ceiling, a tiny hand waving at Marko, and vanished.
The monitor stopped, calling to Marko. ‘My thanks, Marko, for a few precious days of real sentience.’
He did not have time to reply as the producer, wearing a dark blue, slim, powered combat suit, stamped across and fired what appeared to Marko to be a soft laser, of a type unknown to him, into the monitor. No outward sign of damage appeared, but Marko knew that its mind was no longer, as she yelled, ‘Drone, move to the rest of your type and begin recording as per my suit’s instructions!’
She turned to Marko looking him slowly up and down. ‘So what am I to do with you? The monitors are now back under my control. I rename them drones maybe? The rest of your crew likewise. They have been further reminded of the penalties of assisting you. I have changed my med pack to calm my nerves and suppress my sexual thoughts. We are three days’ travel away from the moon where the Avians are, so I can assure you that I will conduct this mission as I see fit. Oh, and for you information, I am about to force Sirius into hibernation so she will not assist you either. Yes, and everything is being continuously recorded and stored in the hard matrix on board my shuttle. What have you to say to that?’