It was time to try and wake up Frank. I took the liberty to wait only 100
minutes hoping that Frank would be able to wake up earlier than estimated. First thing I did was fish out his
ButtonPort earbud and put it in his ear.
I spoke to him loudly over the earbud in Pig Latin and shook his shoulder
firmly. He was groggy and probably
felt like going right back to sleep.
However, once he opened his eyes I started saying to him over and over
again, “Ankfray, erethay isway omethingsay ongwray.” I knew that our communication was
probably being monitored. We had
basic encryption, but someone like Sir Terrance with access to dozens
supercomputers our encryption was probably child’s play to decode. And I don’t think he would be fooled by
Pig Latin for more than a second.
Frank kept staring at me as he tried to
focus his mind. Finally, he asked,
“Where are we?” I knew he wasn’t
asking if we were still in the jet, that was obvious. I answered, “My guess is we are circling
roughly between the Norwegian and Greenland Seas. We don’t seem to be headed to any
destination.”
“What the fuck?” Frank said now stone cold
sober and wide awake.
He looked over to the two robots and asked,
“Hey GAICs, where are we landing?”
They did not respond. Frank
asked, “Hey Jerkface, when are we landing?” They did not respond. They just kept standing behind the
counter and remained mute. Frank
looked at me and said, “Well, this is great. Any options?”
Over the earbud I told him I did not think
there were any. I said I had no
access to the Internet on the plane.
I said there were the Cirrus Escape pods, but considering we were in the
middle of nowhere and the water temperature was about 32.3 degrees Fahrenheit
our chances of surviving were questionable. Assuming our host has not disabled them,
especially the emergency satellite beacon, I do not know if they would keep us
alive and warm until we were rescued.
Most likely, once I am out of this plane I could connect to one of the
satellites that the Wall Street Journal uses, but they would have to go up
channels to get us help and that could take too long. One way to get into an escape pod is to
say you need to go to the bathroom.
Both bathrooms double as escape pods which is nice as they are also
designed for the handicapped.
Frank grumbled under his breath, “Great, so
I get to freeze to death on a toilet.”
He turned and looked out the dark window.
Frank sat there for several minutes
thinking about what I had said. He
picked up his drink and was about to take a sip of Jack Daniels but before I
could warn him he must have remembered and threw the glass at the two
stooges. One of them picked up the
pieces silently and threw them away.
Frank watched them clean up his rebellious gesture and then turned to me
and whispered, “Are there any Emergency overrides on the
auto-pilot?”
“Not on board, sir.”
“Shit, what about those two stooges, could
we try to command them to override their instructions because of my
safety?”
“It would be worth a try, sir. I would join in your data demands, but
if they have been programmed to ignore that they will do
nothing.”
Frank got up and walked over to the two
GAICs and said in as stern a voice as possible, “Gentlemen, I feel I am in
danger. This plane will soon run
out of fuel and we will crash into the Arctic Ocean. Help me. Order the plane to land in London
now.”
The two robots stood there like Fran was
speaking Martian. Frank got angry
and picked up the bottle of Jack Daniels and smashed it on the head of the
closest GAIC. The only response was
the Jack Daniel smelling robot told Frank, “Please take your seat, Mr.
Huntington.”
The other robot started to pick up the
pieces of glass on the counter and Frank tried to grab its arm. The robot used its other hand and firmly
separated Frank’s grip from his arm.
Frank let out a little whelp as the force applied by the robot had been
such that no human could have resisted.
The alcohol smelling robot repeated the request/order again and Frank
realized it was time to go and regroup.
Once he was seated he looked at me and
said, “That was a waste of time.
Could you overpower them?”
In Frank’s earbud I said, “After watching them up close, I have decided
they are really repurposed military robots. Their markings are civilian, as is their
communication ID, but from the sound of their arms and hands I can tell they are
upgraded to combat strength. I
would be no match for them, sir.”
“When do you think this bird will run out
of fuel?”
“In about another three hours,
Sir.”
“Seems like an awfully expensive way to
kill me.”
“Maybe they just intend to keep you up here
for awhile and then land someplace before running out of fuel. They could drop us off someplace in
Iceland or Greenland.”
“But why?”
“Sorry, sir, I don’t have enough data to
make a plausible theory.”
“Fuck, I could use a drink, but I don’t
want to be asleep when I die.”
“Sir, I can check out your drink for most
substances.”
“Fine go ask the two stooges for another
Jack Daniels and test it for any shit.”
I went over to our hostbots and asked for a
large glass of Jack Daniels. They
brought out a new bottle and pour a glass as requested. I thanked them and brought it over to
Frank. I sampled it while bringing
it over and found it was clean.
“As far as I can tell this is only Jack
Daniels, Sir.”
Frank sniffed it and took a hesitant
sip. After waiting about two
minutes he took a healthy drink and half the glass was gone. I sat down next to my master and we both
were quiet. About every ten minutes
Frank looked at his antique watch.
When he was finished with his drink Frank looked over at the two robots
and said, “How about another drink and some food? Being held prisoner makes me
hungry.”
The two GAICs (or whatever their real model
was) quickly prepared food and a new glass of Jack Daniels. When they uncovered the plate I saw a
lovely lobster tail smothered in a butter sauce and a filet mignon with a
truffle sauce. It looked well
presented. On a separate plate was a baked potato with all the fixings. If robots could envy humans I think the
one thing we would envy is the ability of taste and enjoy fine food. Human fuel often looked very
elegant. As a robot I felt nothing
when I recharged. It meant no more
to me than walking or picking up a towel from the floor.
Frank had a slight look of surprise and
said, “Not being the suspicious type, but I would say this almost look likes a
last meal.” I assume he was making
an allusion to a condemned criminal about to face execution. After I sampled the drink and did twenty
random samples of the two plates of food I told Frank, “Go ahead,
enjoy.”
Frank was finished with the lobster and
about half way done with the filet when the auto-pilot came over the speaker,
“Please take your seat and fasten your seatbelt. We are about to refuel and may
experience some turbulence. About
two minutes later I could hear the noise as the fuel port hatch was opened and
the sound of another approaching air plane. I looked at Frank and told him, “It
seems doubtful that they intend to dump you in the ocean, Sir. If they refuel us we will be good for
another seven hours.”
Frank started to say, “I wonder how long
they…” when I had to interrupt him.
I vocally said, “Sir do you want me to fetch you another glass of Jack
Daniels.” Over his earbud I told
him, “Sir I can get on the Internet now.
The refueling plane’s network is open.”
He beckoned me to bend down and said,
“Contact the Princess and ask for help.
Explain situation.” Then he
pulled his head back and said rudely, “More booze,
damnit.”
I was able to send the following email to
the Princess: “Dear Princess Marianne, This is a message on behalf of Frank
Huntington. Plane did not take us
back to London and is circling the Arctic Ocean. Frank held captive. Please help. Sincerely, Jack.” I sent it while walking
towards the two stooges and asked them for a refill on Frank’s glass. Upon bringing it back to Frank and of
course checking it for drugs, I handed it to my master and said, “Is there any
other task you require, Sir.” He
only responded with a wink.
After about fifteen minutes the auto-pilot
informed us we could now move about the cabin if we desired. I had heard the fueling plane turn away
from us about a minute earlier.
Frank finished his food and asked for another glass “for dessert”. After that, he pushed back the chair and
decided to take a snooze. I didn’t
blame him. There was no one to talk
to, at least freely, nor was there any entertainment. Especially, the type of evening
entertainment Frank was famous for.
I know some humans use robots for sexual satisfaction, but Frank never
resorted to that. He showed a 100%
preference for real live women. He
seemed to be one of those humans who never was lonely.
Frank was still sleeping when the
auto-pilot repeated the request for staying in your seat with your seatbelt
on. Frank had never removed his
belt, so I just stayed in my seat.
A moment later I heard the same noises as before leading me to believe we
were being refueled again. I
quietly checked the Internet again for headlines and for any new communications
to Frank since I was still able to tap into the other plane’s open network. There was one from Princess
Marianne. It read, “Dear Frank, I
will see what I can do. I am
confused why. Don’t worry,
Marianne.” Since the email had made
it to the Princess I then knew that they were not bothering to monitor our
earbud conversations. I sent a
brief response to the Princess. It
went, “Acknowledged. Frank Huntington.”
Again, after about fifteen minutes I heard the plane move away and the
auto-pilot announcing we could move about again. It was then that I woke Frank up from
his sleep. He woke up quickly this
time. I told him verbally, “Sir
they just refueled us again. We are good for another seven hours.” In his earbud I told him, “Princess
responded. She said she will try
and help. She was surprised at your
situation. I acknowledged her
message.”
“Good, go get me some strong coffee and
some cream if they have any. Real
cream, too.”
I got up and went to our robo-hosts and
they were already boiling water to make some coffee in a French Press. They allowed me to bring the tray with
the French Press, a cup, and a creamer full of real heavy cream. Frank let me pour a cup and add cream
while I also ran several tests on both the coffee and the cream to see if they
were clean. I handed Frank the cup
and said, “Enjoy Sir, it smells like your favorite brand.”
Frank quietly sat there drinking his
coffee. What was there to say? He knew the cabin was probably
bugged. It was best to let sleeping
giants lie. I expected another long
period of quiet until the next refueling.
I estimated if the plane had been serviced and the engines had no hours
on them that we could stay up for over two weeks before regularly scheduled
maintenance would become due.
Sooner if there were some hours on the engines. At the very least the manufacturer
required the lubrication schedule be done.
Suddenly, there was the tone of the onboard
phone signaling a call was coming through.
Frank got up and went and answered the phone. The two stooges remained behind their
counter. Of course, I could hear
what Frank heard and knew instantly it was the Princess. This is what I
heard.
“Hello” said Frank.
“Frank, this is
Marianne.”
“Hi.
So what gives?” Frank said in a cool voice not showing any emotion one
way or the other. Her voice did not
sound calm.
“I don’t know. I don’t dare ask my husband. Do you think he knows about
us?”
“If he does he has an odd way of showing he
is pissed off. I think it is
something else. What that is I
don’t have a fucking clue. Can you
get me back to London?”
“I’ll have to figure out where the
controller program is and see if I can get in it.”
“Hurry, I need to get back to earth and
figure this out.”
“Hold on, I found it. Let me look at the flight plan.” There was a silence until Frank finally
said, “Are you still there Marianne?”
“Quiet, I’m trying to figure this out. I don’t usually deal with stuff like
this.”
After about a minute she was back, “Okay,
it is set to just fly around for a week.
It will then fly you back to London.”
Frank quietly said, “Can you change it to
come back to London now?”
“Yes, but that would take a little over
three hours. I think it would be
safer to get you back to civilization faster in case anyone notices the flight
plan has been changed.”
“Smart girl. Where?”
“Reykjavik. It is closest to where you
are.”
“Perfect, I can catch an Icelandic Air to
London.”
“Be careful, Frank.”
“Ditto, Princess.”
Frank hung up the phone and took his
seat. He pushed it back to an
inclined position and shut his eyes.
A minute later I could feel the jet take on a new heading towards the
southwest. The Princess must have
been able to change the flight plan.
My estimate was that we would be there in less than an hour. Unfortunately, I would not be able to
book a flight to London until we got off this plane. Hopefully, the goon squad was not given
separate instructions to keep us on the plane for the whole week. If that was the case Frank would have to
try and make a break for it while I tried to hold back those two robots. I would not be able to delay them very
long. A few seconds at most before
they would overpower me. Just my
luck I would end up in repair. They
could rip off my arm or head. I
would not feel any harm, but it would inconvenience my master. At least he would not have to pay for
the repairs as I am really the property of the Wall Street
Journal.
About a half hour later the auto-pilot made
the request for everyone to take a seat and buckle up. Right after that I could sense we were
losing altitude and speed. It was
obvious to me that we were on the final approach to the runway.
Suddenly, the plane’s two jet engines
revved up and the plane started to climb and bank. A few seconds later we were still
climbing but on a steady northeast heading. Frank looked at me and said, “We are
headed back.” Then he did something
really strange. He doubled over in
his seat and I could see his right arm go up by his face. I could also see his mouth was wide
open. Then suddenly I heard a
retching sound come from Frank and he sat up quickly and projectile vomited
towards the two stooges. He then
stood up coughing loudly and manage to say the word “Bathroom!” between
coughs. The two robots just stared,
but when Frank made for the bathrooms they stood aside and let him go. I kept asking Frank, “Master, Master,
what is wrong? Master can I help
you?” and followed him to the bathroom.
Once inside he turned to me and said “You idiot, go to the other bathroom
and jettison out of here.” I
started to go and then he said, “On second thought you stay and I’ll go.” He ran out slamming the door and I could
hear the other bathroom door slam shut.
He yelled, “Sorry I puked all over you, Jack.” Five seconds later I started the
jettison procedure. After pushing
several levers a ten second timer started and I heard a robot voice warning that
unless the “Stop” button was pushed the procedure would continue. A second later I heard the same robot
voice coming from Frank’s bathroom.
I also heard the two stooges coming towards us. They started talking very loudly for us
to go back to our seats. Then I
heard a loud knock on my door and a demand to open up. I hoped that they did not break down the
door because that could really mess things up. I don’t know what would happen if they
put a fist through the door when the rockets would try to push us away from the
jet.
The sound was very loud when the pod was
jettisoned. Exploding bolts, rocket
engines and the sound of the parachute being deployed definitely got one’s
attention. I could hear Frank’s pod
jettison about four seconds after mine did. The next thing I noticed it became
quiet. I could hear the jet plane
continue to climb and fly away from us.
Then a computerized voice informed the occupant to, “Sit down and buckle
up. Landing in 18 seconds.” It would keep repeating the warning
updating the time until landing. I
couldn’t see Frank’s pod out of the small window, but I would imagine we would
land no more than five miles apart.
The landing was hard, but not serious. The voice repeated instructions on how
to egress the pod and what to do if the pod lands in water. It also said to stay calm and that help
will be coming soon. It gave
instructions on where food and water were stored and asked if I needed any
instructions on first aid. I told
it, “I am fine” and started to open the hatch.
Once outside I scanned the horizon to see
if I could find Frank’s pod. It did
not take long as it is hard to miss a bright orange parachute waving in the
air. We had luckily landed in a
field. There was about five inches
of snow. Frank was only three
hundred and fourteen yards from me.
I ran towards the pod and as I approached the hatch opened up. I could see Frank pull his sports coat
closer to his body.
“Sir, are you
alright?”
“I’m great. Where is a house or some place we can
get warm?”
“There are a couple of buildings about a
mile south of here. Can you
run?”
“Lead the way, Jack.”
And so we jogged at a steady pace. Thankfully, the field was level and easy
to run through the three to six inches of snow. It only took us about nineteen minutes
to get to the house. It was early
in the morning and like all good farms the farmer was already up. When he opened the door I said to the
farmer, “Hej, vi har brug for hjælp.
Vores fly styrtede ned. Kan
du give os en tur til byen?” In
English I said, “Hello. We need
help. Our plane crashed. Can you give us a lift to
town?”
Frank asked, “What did you tell
him?”
The farmer smiled and said with a Danish
accent, “You American, yes?”
“Yes I am. My name is Frank Huntington. I’m a reporter for the Wall Street
Journal. It’s important I get to
the airport. Can you take
us?”
“Of course, just as soon as I finish
milking the cows.”
Frank had that “Oh My God”
expression on his face, but I asked the farmer if there was something we could
do to help. He thanked us and then
invited us into his house for some strong coffee and Øllebrød. Once Frank saw the farmer pour Einstök
beer over a bowl of rye bread pieces he gave the farmer a big smile and said,
“Looks good.”
After
Frank and the farmer, whose name we learned was Carl Soborg, finished breakfast
I followed them into the barn. He
had me clean out the stall where the cows had been kept during the night. Frank got to help wash the cows' udders
and get them into the milking parlor.
It all went quicker than I thought.
In less than two hours we had eight cows cleaned, milked and returned to
their stalls. Once that was done we
got into Mr. Soborg’s truck. While
milking I had booked the earliest flight I could get tickets to for London. We had plenty of time before our
flight.
Once in the main terminal I picked up our
boarding passes. We had only two
hours to wait. Frank used the time
to rent one of those mini suites to take a shower, shave, and get a change of
underclothes. He also called his
editor and told him he was going to send him a time encrypted message that he
was to open if he did not get back to him in a week. After that Frank dictated the following
message I was to send to his Editor.
“Perry, this is Frank Huntington. I have proof that Sir Terrance Lutts was
behind the religious events where everyone became an atheist. That includes those nuns in Spain, the
Buddhists in LA and what happened in Old Jerusalem. I suspect he was testing his nano
devices that somehow reprograms the brain to not be religious. I believe he wants to use these nano
things on the whole world. I am
going to try and stop him. If you
are reading this and not saying, ‘Sweet Jesus’ then you will know I failed. Cheers, Frank”
Frank told me to send it immediately but
encrypt it for a week. I did so and
then asked Frank if he really thought Lutts was going to do
that.
“Yes, Jack, it all makes sense. While I have no doubt he now can cure
depression I realize that same technology can cure religion, if you know what I
mean.”
“You’ve always hated religion. Do you really care if he does
that?”
“I don’t believe in forcing anyone to
believe anything. Religion sucks,
but if we allow him to force atheism on the world, what other changes would he
decide to do? And you know, Lutts
probably doesn’t want to do more than kill religion, but someone will figure out
how to use his technology and force the world to do what they
want.”
“You’d all be robots,
Sir.”
Frank gave a small chuckle and said,
“You’re right Jack. We’d be just
like you.”
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