Evil Machines (26 page)

‘Now, free my feet,’ said the robot Inventor, holding the now screaming child in front of it like a chicken whose neck it was about to wring.

The androids were sent in to free the robot’s feet.

‘Very good!’ said the Evil Machine. ‘Now give me that remote!’

The Inventor heaved a sigh, but there was nothing else for it – he threw his remote over to his robot opposite.

‘Good!’ said the robot, holding Little Orville’s neck in one mechanical hand, while it caught the remote in the other. ‘Let’s get rid of that.’ And it crushed the controller as if it were crumpling up a piece of paper. Goodness knows what it could have done to Little Orville’s neck! The next minute the robot was operating its own remote again, and more metal blocks shot up out of the floor and before they knew what was happening, both Annie and Maurice were trapped in cubes of metal just like Jack and Orville – with just their heads sticking out. The red lights beamed down and the metal creaked and hardened. They were entombed.

‘I don’t think you are going to stop anything!’ sneered the robot, dropping Little Orville on the floor. ‘Look at you!’ and he marched up to Maurice, whose head was sticking up out of the block. ‘You!’ shouted the robot into Maurice’s face. ‘You thought you were so clever! Well, you

weren’t as clever as you should have been! And the rest of you! What pathetic creatures you all are . . . You and the rest of the human race! None of you are a match for my machines! You’ll see!’

‘What is your plan?’ asked the Inventor.

‘My plan? Why should I tell you?’ said the robot. ‘But then why shouldn’t I? There’s absolutely nothing you can do now to stop me. Oh! And in case you’re thinking the little brat is going to help you . . .’ And the robot operated its remote, and in moments even Little Orville was encased in a solid metal block, from which only his head emerged. He was too frightened and too amazed to even scream.

‘What is the plan?’ said the robot. ‘I’ll show you!’

He pressed a button and a large screen came down. It was the same map of the world that Jack and Orville had seen in the control room of the Iron Cloud.

‘How am I going to kill off all human beings – all over the world – at exactly the same time? How am I going to leave the world free for machines? It’s so simple! What do humans need to do that machines don’t? Eh? They need “the breath of life”! So I’m going to “turn off” the air for a few hours!’

‘You’re talking nonsense!’ yelled Orville Barton.

‘No! He’s not!’ cried Maurice, his head twisting this way and that in his metal block, as he looked around the control room. ‘I’ve suddenly realized what this place is!’

‘Yes!’ sneered the robot. ‘It’s your rectifier isn’t it? Except I moved it out here, enlarged it a hundred times and built hundreds of them all over the world!’

‘But that’s dangerous!’ exclaimed the Inventor.

‘Exactly!’ said the robot.

‘What do the rectifiers do?’ asked Annie.

‘They reverse the magnetic field of anything in their vicinity!’ exclaimed Maurice. ‘I built one as an experiment. But to build more . . . well . . .’

‘I’ve built so many,’ screamed the robot, ‘and so distributed them in every continent and floating on every ocean, that I will be able – by the flick of a switch – to cancel out the entire Earth’s magnetic field!’

‘But why would you do that?’ exclaimed Orville. ‘Everything – including
you
will fly off the planet and perish in the infinite wastes of space!’

‘Child’s play!’ shouted the robot. ‘I shan’t cancel the Earth’s gravity completely . . . I’ll just turn it down a little – just enough to allow the lightest things to rise up a few thousand feet!’

‘What does it mean?’ yelled Jack.

‘It’s diabolical!’ yelled the Inventor. ‘Oh my dears! I’m so sorry I created this monster!’

‘But what is it going to do?’ cried Annie.

‘Haven’t you got it yet, you simpletons?’ sneered the robot. ‘The Earth’s atmosphere will rise up . . .’

‘No!’ screamed the Inventor.

‘I’ll keep it up at 40,000 feet or so for a couple of hours, just to make sure every breathing creature is asphyxiated, and then I’ll lower it again . . . Because of course some machines need oxygen to function.’ The robot was now punching codes into the control panel in front of it.

‘I’ll repeat the process every day for a week – just to make sure I’ve wiped out not only every human being but

every living creature – and my machines will take over the world! Goodbye! I hope you enjoy knowing what’s going to happen . . . You have precisely forty seconds to think about it while the rectifiers build up to full strength!’

And with that, the robot threw the main switch, and the control room was filled with a loud throbbing sound as the rectifiers started to build up power. At the same time, the dots on the map of the world all lit up in unison to show that the rectifiers all over the world were switched on and working.

The throbbing noise grew louder and louder . . .

‘Goodbye!’ said Orville Barton, looking from his son to his daughter. ‘I’m so sorry I was a bad father to you both! I’m sorry I neglected you! I wish I could live my life again and be a proper father to you this time!’

‘Dad!’ called Annie

‘Dad!’ called out Jack, shouting above the increasing throbbing noise that filled their ears.

‘Yah! YAAAAAAAHHHH!’ screamed Little Orville.

‘Maurice!’ screamed a high-pitched, cracked voice.

The robot froze.

‘Maurice Morris!’ continued the voice. And suddenly there stood a little old lady, standing in the subdued blue light by the main entrance of the control room. ‘I knew I’d find you here in your favourite spot up on the Campsie Fells!’

And without more ado, Mrs Morris (yes, she who had bought the Truthful Phone) marched across the control room and started to beat the robot around the head with her umbrella . . . Gunk! Gunk! Gunk!

‘It’s YOU!’ exclaimed the robot and Maurice together.

‘Of course it’s me, you idiot!’ said Mrs Morris, addressing the robot. ‘You don’t think you can go on television and announce that you’re taking over the world without me noticing do you?’

‘I love you!’ cried the robot.

‘Don’t start getting sentimental you old fool!’ exclaimed Mrs Morris, who, despite being such a nice little old lady, had never enjoyed a particularly romantic relationship with her husband.

‘But I do! I adore the ground you walk on!’ exclaimed the robot.

Mrs Morris looked at it suspiciously. ‘You’ve never said things like that to me before!’ she muttered. ‘Are you all right in the head?’

‘My darling!’ said the robot. ‘I am programmed to love you!’

‘What!’ cried Mrs Morris.

‘I have been programmed to love you! Passionately! Eternally!’ cried the robot.

Gunk! Mrs Morris hit it over the head again. ‘You’ve been drinking, Maurice Morris!’

‘No! No! I am fulfilling my destiny! My programme!’ cried the robot and it tried to put its arms around Mrs Morris. But the old lady fought him off.

‘
Who
“programmed” you?’ she shouted.

‘I’m afraid I did,’ said Maurice, his head sticking out from his block.

‘Who’s that?’ cried the old woman, spinning round.

‘It’s me: Maurice!’ said the Inventor. ‘Your husband.

That’s just a robot!’

‘Maurice! You low-down and dirty rascal!’

‘My dear!’ replied Maurice, ‘you’ll never guess how glad I am to see you!’

***

So that was how a little old lady from Glasgow saved not only the entire human race but all living creatures from extinction.

As soon as Maurice explained the situation to Mrs Morris, she told the robot to stop the machines and set everyone free. And of course, because the robot had been programmed to love and obey Mrs Morris without question and forever, it did exactly what she told it to do.

The rectifiers were halted all around the world, and the air we breathe was never ‘turned off’.

Maurice himself, however, returned to his Iron Cloud, where he was happy enough making his inventions to improve life for everyone, which is what he had devoted himself to ever since he had disappeared so mysteriously on the Campsie Fells. He said that sort of a life suited him better than being married, although he could do with a partner to help him.

As for Mrs Morris, she didn’t mind in the least. She actually preferred the robot to her husband. It was far more attentive, loving and made the best tea in the world . . . which made Mrs Morris the most contented old lady who ever was.

Annie and Little Orville returned to their home on the cliff and Annie wrote a song all about their adventures that

was recorded by no less an artist than Sir Elton John. Her husband, Tom, started assisting Maurice in his engineering projects, and eventually helped him to build a three-storey rabbit educator, which could automatically train rabbits to do household chores.

Jack did not return to the guerrillas, but he did start writing about their cause and became a prize-winning journalist, specializing in South American politics.

And what of Mr Orville Barton? Well, he handed over his business to his assistant Percy Baker, and devoted himself and his fortune to helping his children, and in particular to teaching his grandson, Little Orville, to speak in languages other than Drivel, to play cricket and to cheat at cards.

THE END

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