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‘What’s wrong
sweetheart?’ asked Adam.

‘Nothing now,’
said Madeline.

The next day a
parcel was delivered. It contained the smallest of devices but it
lacked a 12 volt battery.

‘You want an
a23 battery for that. I’ll nip down the shop, I need a newspaper
anyway. I’ll only be a few minutes,’ said Adam.

In the short
time that he was gone a black Range Rover with tinted windows
screeched to a halt outside Madeline’s flat, picked her up and then
catapulted off in to the distance.

Chapter 12:
The ‘V’ room

The shiny black
4x4 pulled up at a private airport. An equally shiny black
helicopter was waiting with rotors spinning. For once, Madeline
felt important; a sleek colossally expensive helicopter just for
her. In no time the helicopter had travelled up the country to
Cheshire and was landing skilfully on a helipad on top of Capesdown
hall. Pike was waiting to escort her into the building. A lift took
them many floors down, far more than the Hall appeared to have from
the outside. The lift opened on to a small room. Nuttall stood
there alone.

‘Thanks Pike,
you can go now.’

Nuttall
remained silent until Pike was in the lift and ascending.

‘Sorry
Madeline, we need you again, something serious this time,’ said
Nuttall wondering if it was necessary to apologise to an
automaton.

‘So terminating
27 in my last mission wasn’t serious then?’

‘Brilliant job,
by the way… No, that was just a test.’

‘You mean you
riled the nation, filled a morgue and emptied a high security
prison just to test me?’

‘You
underestimate yourself. You are possibly the greatest asset this
country has ever had. We’ve spent billions on nuclear submarines
and fighter jets, but you can do things on an altogether different
scale. Call yourself a gold plated investment.’

‘Investment?
You’ve claimed me because my genius builders have conveniently all
gone. You haven’t a clue how I function, what if I go faulty? What
if my core program is corrupted,’ said Madeline angrily.

Apart from
anything else, she thought it was wise to reinforce the android
illusion.

‘We’ll… fix
you,’ said Nuttall positively.

‘Don’t ever
underestimate me!’ said Madeline sternly. ‘So what’s my next job
then?’

‘First things
first, a little explanation about this room: We are thirty metres
below the surface, the walls are two metres thick, lead impregnated
and charged with 100, 000 volts…’

‘So, a fall out
shelter,’ chirped Madeline. ‘Expecting a nuclear attack?’

‘Not at the
moment. This room is one of a kind, the only one in the world. We
call it the ‘V’ room – a full spectrum veil chamber.’

‘Am I supposed
to be impressed?’

‘Absolutely
nothing can penetrate this room, not even neutrinos.

‘You’ve built
all this just so you can’t be bugged?’

‘On the
contrary, we’ve built it to stop anything getting in.’

How wrong
Nuttall was. The complex signal from Professor Braugenhau’s radio
transmitter was clearly ‘getting in’. Madeline continued to
communicate perfectly with Poppy’s interface many miles away.
Fortunately Nuttall didn’t know this. He had no reason to suspect
Madeline Bull was anything other than a very cleverly programmed
android.

‘What don’t you
want to get in?’ asked Madeline.

‘Thought
waves,’ said Nuttall with a serious face.

‘You what…
thought waves? You’re taking the wee-wee.’

‘On the
contrary, have you ever heard the name, Mark Titoo?’

‘Course I have,
who hasn’t?’

‘You have? Oh…
I was hoping you hadn’t… Well, who is he, where have you seen him?’
asked Nuttall.

‘He’s the… he
was on…’ Madeline couldn’t answer.

‘Exactly,
everybody in the country has heard of him but nobody knows who he
is but his name is familiar as rain.’

‘He’s a News
reader?’ claimed Madeline.

‘No he
isn’t.’

‘He’s an
author?’

‘No,’

‘So how the
hell have I heard of him then?’

‘Well, until
just, I really thought it was some sort of mind influencing signal
but now it begs the question how have you been influenced with a
computer processor instead of a brain?’

Madeline, of
course, didn’t have a brain as such, she just used Poppy’s, which,
last time she checked was definitely biological. To circumnavigate
this deception, a little white lie was necessary.

‘Actually a bit
of me is biological. My designers had to develop a way of making
the many thousands of electrical connections in my processor more
dynamic so they used protoplasmic fibres instead,’ said Madeline,
not having a clue where the word protoplasmic came from.

‘Well that
explains a lot but we were hoping that you were immune. Can you
hear anything?’

‘No nothing,
it’s deadly quiet.’

‘Turn your gain
up to full - your new diamond ceramic mike’s will pick up any trace
of noise.’

Madeline rubbed
her finger and thumb together in a particular way.

‘Amazing, I can
hear your heart beat, you want get that checked it has a murmur and
your breathing… bit of phlegm there.’

‘Actually our
boffins think it maybe some sort of ultrasound - a kind of tinnitus
if you like. We believe that someone has developed a way of
transmitting these mind influencing signals all over the world.
Down here we’re shielded from the signal,’ said Nuttall.

‘Yes, we must
be,’ Madeline lied.

She was
conscious of a very faint high pitched tinnitus type sound. But
they were Poppy’s ears not Madeline’s - Poppy ears weren’t thirty
metres underground.

‘If someone has
found a way of influencing everyone remotely using ultrasound –
tinnitus, whatever, this person is the most dangerous person ever
to have walked the planet. He can start wars, instil hatred,
overthrow governments… just about anything can happen,’ suggested
Madeline.

‘The human
being is a very susceptible entity,’ said Nuttall solemnly.

‘Well, it
certainly beats your average mass murdered, rapist, psychopath and
extortionist. So, you want me to kill him… or her then?’

‘Yes and
quickly before this Titoo chap starts something. Only you have the
resources, the invulnerability and… dare I say it, the ingenuity to
do it,’ said Nuttall.

For some
reason, Madeline became overwhelmed with emotion and her eyes
welled up as he said this.

They left the
veiled room and entered the lift, the faint tinnitus noise returned
inside Nuttall’s head.

‘I don’t know
why but suddenly I feel very depressed. I have an odd feeling that
everyone despises me,’ said Madeline trying her best not to
cry.

The passable
smile on Nuttall’s face dropped and the friendly glint in his eye
extinguished. He immediately began to loath the person next to him.
The lift door opened. They were greeted by six angry looking men
wielding hand guns. Nuttall felt the urge to join in and took out
his hand gun and shot Madeline in the chest - then the others
opened fire. The bullets pierced Madeline’s designer clothes but
fortunately bounced off her new impervious body. She hastily
selected explosive motion level 5, pushed them violently aside and
ran at the speed of a Bugatti Veyron, down the corridor, out of the
main entrance, across the gravel drive and out of the main
gates.

‘This is going
to be a challenge,’ said Madeline out loud as she flew across a
ploughed field with powerful strides of over ten metres. The
feeling that everybody hated her suddenly disappeared and the
distant hail of bullets suddenly stopped. A message came through on
her invasive MI 7 communication device:

‘
You now
know what you’re up against, for a few minutes you were the most
loathed person on Earth. The hate feeling disappeared as quickly as
it appeared. Find this Mark Titoo or whoever is doing this and do
what you’re best at. Good luck.’

Madeline didn’t
like the idea that killing was what she was best at. Surely there
were other things that she was better at than killing. She thought
about it and realised that there wasn’t. She ran for over four
miles across fields, jumping easily over dry stone walls and
streams until eventually, after about five minutes, she reached a
small town with a supermarket. The most important item on her
shopping list was an a23 12volt battery. She fitted it into the
small device she had received in the post that morning and dialled
up Barton.

‘Hi Pops, hope
your device works,’ said Madeline deciding to try out a new name
for him.

A voice came
back clearly recovering from a serious bout of sobbing,
‘Is the
green light on?’

‘Yes… are you
all right, Barton?’

‘
I am now.
Ten minutes ago for some unknown reason I started ripping wires and
pipes out of your tank in an uncontrollable rage.’

‘You hated me,
right?’

‘
Well… yes.
The feeling faded before I’d done any real damage but I can’t
explain it.’

‘You sound as
though your upset,’ pried Madeline.

‘
Suddenly
after a few minutes, my emotions seemed to rebound from extreme
hate to extreme…’

‘…Love?’
suggested Madeline.

She didn’t give
him time to answer - the last thing she wanted was to go all sloppy
on each other.

‘Heard the
name: Mark Titoo? Don’t bother answering, course you have but you
don’t know who he is and you’ve never met him. Apparently we’re all
being influenced by some kind of mind wave - signal. It’s just made
every one in the country – probably in the world, hate me for a few
minutes.’

‘
My God,
that will explain it. I suppose this person is your next target
then?’

‘Naturally, but
in the search, I suspect a few obstacles he may well be thrown in
my way. Somehow I need some leads…’

‘
Don’t
forget your data bases, they may reveal something?’

‘Good thinking,
I think I’ll hide myself in a pub somewhere and journey
inattentively inwards.’

‘
Journey
inattentively inwards – good line.’

‘Yea, read it
in a book. Would you contact Adam and ask him to come and pick me
up? Could run the whole 200 mile but may attract a bit of
attention.’

‘
Ok, will
do… Madeline, be careful,
’ said Barton still emotionally
recovering.

Chapter 13:
Everyone loves Madeline

There were two
significant things to go on - the timely event of everyone hating
Madeline and the name Mark Titoo. Whoever he was, somehow he knew
the precise moment to send the brainwashing signal to turn everyone
into Madeline haters. Whoever he was also most probably also now
knew that he was her next target. An inside man was the only
possible answer.

There was a
slim chance. It all depended on whether Paul Brownsword – Turner at
the time, had time to complete his paperwork. Had he filed the
names on the Residents of Wardate list on to a data base? She type
in the word Wardate and crossed her fingers. It wasn’t there. Of
course it wasn’t, a data base containing the world’s most evil
people? That would be something instantly deleted by a
strategically place member of the brotherhood. But surely
Turner/Brownsword wouldn’t have discarded the priceless
information. Would he have filed the names under something else?
Madeline entered: ‘Brownsword’ – nothing, ‘Turner’ – nothing, ‘Tara
Gogli’ – nothing. Madeline emerged from her inner world, left the
quiet corner of the inn and went over to the bar.

‘Have you a
vacant double room?’ Madeline asked.

‘Yes Madam, one
night?’ said the rather miserable obese barman.

‘Yes.’

‘Do you want to
see it?’

‘No, I’m sure
it’ll be fine.’

‘Can I have
your name please?’

‘Madeline
Bull.’

The sheer
mention of this name transformed the appearance of the Barman. A
penetrating paternal smile radiated from his former sad face.

‘
The
Madeline Bull?’

‘Why do you
know me?’

The barman had
to think about that question, he obviously didn’t but somehow he
adored her, trembled in her presence and would walk to the moon and
back for her. He had no idea why he felt like he did. A rather long
awkward silence ensued before Madeline thanked him and returned to
her seat. The next couple of hours were insufferable for Madeline
in the nicest possible way. Naturally the Barman told every visitor
to the inn, who was sitting in the corner. None of the visitors had
ever set eyes on her but for some unfathomable reason they all
adored her, even dogs came up to her wagged their tails. Hopefully
these effects wouldn’t last but clearly the adverse effect of
making the whole world instantly loath you for a few minutes was
that the world then flipped into worship mode.

Adam arrived -
tears streaming down his face. He ran to Madeline, hugged her,
kissed her and cried some more.

‘Adam,
sweetheart, what’s wrong,’ asked Madeline sweetly.

‘A few hours
ago something really weird happened. In an instant I detested you.
So much so that I tore up all are photos, that favourite shirt you
bought me, I cut it up. I started to send you a hate text and then
it was all over. I suddenly loved you again, I don’t think I’ve
ever realised how much I do love you.’

‘It will pass…
I think?’

‘What do you
mean, pass? Why would I want this feeling to stop?’

‘Listen, I know
this is hard to believe but you’ve been affected by a mind altering
signal. You’re not the only one who’s been under the influence.
Even Barton was emotional… look around – everybody is stalking me,
they all… apparently adore me. It’s really embarrassing.’