Frank woke up the next
morning. He was not in a good
mood.
“Jack, where the hell are we?
Was I drugged?” he asked warily.
“We are on Sir Terrance's ship,
but I can’t sense where the ship is other than close to Europe. And yes Sir, you were drugged with a
slow acting drug.”
“Son of a bitch, what is it with
this guy drugging people? He’s
definitely watched too many James Bond films. Remind me to punch him out before I kill
him.”
“Yes Sir, I
will.”
Frank pulled himself upright and
swung his feet onto the floor. He
felt the stubble on his cheek and said, “I guestimate I must have been out about
12 hours.”
“Just shy of seven
hours.”
“Where are the Princess and Pope
Junior?”
“I have no data on them sir,
other then they did come on the plane and helicopter and most likely are still
on the ship.”
Frank got up and went over to
the door and tried to open it. It
was locked. He mumbled that he
hoped that was not the bathroom and went to the other door in the room. That door did open and revealed a small
bathroom. He went in and shut the door.
He stayed in there a long time.
I could tell he spent most of his time in the shower. I went over the built-in armoire and
found pants, underwear, shirts, socks and even a couple of belts that were all
Frank’s size. Sir Lutt’s people
obviously run a tight ship and were prepared to serve guests and prisoners with
gracious style. Frank came out in a
towel. I did not even have to tell
him that I found fresh clothes for him as he walked over to the bed where I had
laid them out.
After he got dressed Frank asked
me, “Any luck in tapping into the ship’s network or getting outside
data?”
“No sir, I can only communicate
with the microwave oven over there.”
“Great, Jack, bring over that
chair.”
I picked up the chair by the
small table and brought it over to where Frank was standing. He got up on the chair and pushed aside
the ceiling tile. He stared at it
then quickly squeezed off a bit of the tile and put the tile back in place. He jumped down from the chair and
examined his sample. I could see
that it was a small piece of foam insulation that is sandwiched between the
decorative surface and the silver foiled radiant heat barrier..
“I bet this is more of his
fucking 23 stuff. This is why we
are blind as bats here, Jack,” Frank said with an angry tone.
I could tell he was getting
pissed at being made a stooge. He
put the foam in the ash tray over by the coffee table. He picked up a pack of smokes and tossed
them to me. I assumed he wanted me
to check them out so I opened the pack and examined both the odor and visual
spectrum analysis and found them safe.
At least as safe as drugs to put humans asleep. I handed them back to Frank and he
proceeded to light one up.
I found it amazing the
resurgence in smoking once cancer was cured. They all knew that they would never die
of cancer so why not enjoy a mythic deadly pleasure? Strange how humans thought, but then
they inter-phase with matter in a very different way than robots did because
they are organic and we are machines.
After finishing his smoke he put
the butt in the ash tray and headed to the bathroom. No sooner than he had closed the door
then the locked door opened and three robots entered. Just then there was a flash of light
which emanated from the ash tray.
The piece of ceiling tile was gone and the cigarette butt was
blackened. One of the robots
informed me that Frank and I must follow them to the dining room. I called out to Frank that we had
visitors and a moment later he came out.
I informed Frank we were to follow these robots to the dining
room.
“About time. I’m hungry. Jack, just make sure that asshole
doesn’t drug me again,” Frank said as he walked over to the three Lutts
robots. For a fraction of a second
I pondered literally if assholes could drug people, but then I analyzed the word
was a nickname for Sir Terrance.
While we were walking I once or
twice picked up some data signals from parts of the ship, but none of them were
a link to a central computer or to the outside world. He must have most of the ship protected
with F-23.
We entered a very large dining
room that looked like it could have been at Sir Terrance’s Maidstone
Castle. Both the Monsignor and the
Princess were already seated. Both
looked pale and low in spirits. Sir
Terrance was sitting at the end of the solid marble dining table in a splendid
smoking jacket, looking relaxed and in control.
Frank spoke up rather loud to
Sir Terrance even before he reached the last empty seat by the Monsignor, “If
you drug me again, Lutts, I’ll have my Jaic tear your balls off. Just tell us where you want us to go and
we will comply. You don’t have to
pretend you are Sir Hugo Drax.”
Lutts must have taken the 007
allusion as a compliment for a small smirky smile crossed his lips before
composing himself to be the host for this unusual meal.
“Thank you all for joining me
and indulging me with I hope some interesting conversation.”
“Seriously, Terrance, you must
be insane,” said Princess Marianne while slowly shaking her head.
“No, my dear wife, I am not
insane. I am probably the sanest
man in the world. I am about to
free humankind from the bondage of ancient fallacies. Your own Lincoln, Mr. Huntington, was
considered quite mad when he freed the slaves. So much so a promising young actor
decided to kill him. I hope not to
pay such a high price for freeing humankind. I realize there will be some chaos while
the world adjusts to new priorities, but I would hope the world would laud me in
hindsight once the dust settles.”
Frank took a cigarette out of
the Princess’s hand and started to smoke.
I could tell he was nervous.
After a good long inhale of smoke Frank said, “You are probably right,
Sir Terrance. You make it a habit
of being right, but I wonder if there will be those who will forgive your heavy
handed methods?”
“At least they will not claim
God will curse me, but you are right, Mr. Huntington. It is very heavy handed. When I had the epiphany that it was
possible to rid humankind of religion I thought about it a lot. I see you
shaking your head, Monsignor, but it is true. Even when we met, Mr. Huntington, at
that silly party I was really thinking about the ethics of taking away such a
primal characteristic from man. Do you remember the book I was looking at, Mr.
Huntington?”
“The Yellow Book” Frank said
matter-of-factly.
“Very good. Yes, the Yellow Book. Not actually a book, but a magazine
elevated by the Aesthetic
movement’s ideals to having a hard cover.
In the first volume was an essay by Sir Max Beerbolm entitled ‘A Defense
of Cosmetics.’ Sir Beerbolm's premise was that because of the rise of material
wealth the art of looking good was on the rise. He wrote, “It is the times that can
perfect us, not we the times, and so let all of us wisely acquiesce. Like the little wired marionettes, let
us acquiesce in the dance.” Sir
Beerbolm’s world was becoming so rich that it could afford artifice. It could afford to be decadent and they
were proud of it. That was only for
the wealthy in the 1890s. Common
people were sweating in the factories working twelve hours a day. In our world those harsh dehumanizing
jobs are done by robots. One would
hope that art based on our mighty sciences would flower in every heart and
brain, but alas we have become so much more artificial and decadent then Wilde’s
cohort.”
“There are still many who work
to advance science and move humankind forward,” the Monsignor bravely
stated.
“Yes, that is true, despite the
church’s rearguard action to keep those who are the most vulnerable enslaved in
superstition. So many still reject
rational thought and think having faith in a god that never answers prayers is a
virtue while using their religion to justify hating other nations strictly
because they believe in another god.
And then there are the countless millions who reject the very science
that has made their lives possible and go and embrace pseudo science and magical
thinking. What a waste of time and
good carbon. Most of these people
are also in the embrace of some crazy Eastern religion. Look at popular culture: the press is
more concerned with publishing your pretty face, my dear, then in the latest
images from our probes at Proxima
Centauri b.”
Lutts
took a sip of wine and then continued with his passionate lecture to his captive
audience, “Look at the last Presidential election, Huntington. You covered it brilliantly. Do you not think it was the most
irrational and destructive mockery of enlightened
democracy?”
“I
can’t fault you on that view, Lutts, but it is still better than having a king
or emperor.”
“I
am not talking about despotism by divine right of kings, but of how the
superrich have kidnapped the strings of power and play most people as
marionettes. You valiantly try to
enlighten the public of the truth in your articles. Looking at who has been winning
elections do you think you are making any difference? You know as well as I do that you can’t
fight the irrational with logic.
Not until humans move beyond irrational faith can we as a species purify
ourselves of war and ignorance.
This is why I am going to do what you see as evil and I see as a
necessary step forward.”
“But
the price is free will and that is a price too high to pay,” the Monsignor said
with passion.
“Bullshit. How much did the church promote free
will? Jack shit little, my
religious friend. Your church told humankind their only choice is to believe in
Christ or they will go to hell and burn forever. Where is a choice in that? I am freeing humankind from that kind of
crap and I am asking for nothing in return. I am not forcing them to worship
me. I am not forcing them to make
me their god or king. Once I have
liberated their minds I expect nothing.”
“I
know you have never really sought money for money’s sake, but why are you so
damn concerned about stopping religion?” his wife asked.
“In
telling you I am probably revealing I am as irrational as the millions who only
live to see Manchester beat Liverpool.
I just want humankind to throw off the shackles of the Iron Age. We are in the age of colonizing Mars and
Venus. We have sent probes to other
star systems. We have abolished
poverty for 90 percent of the people.
Where we have failed you will find the strongest pockets of
religion. And in several of those
pockets warfare.”
“You
know, Lutts,” Frank said with his deadpan journalist's voice “you sound like a
jilted teenage boy.”
“I
expected more from you than lame jokes,” Sir Terrance said to Huntington and
then he turned to the robot on his left and said, “Start the
meal.”
“Well,
how about this. Once it gets out
you know how to reprogram the human brain there will be others ready to add
their personal notions as to how humans should act. And just as heavy handed as your
sanctimonious campaign we could wake up and find the human race enslaved. Did you think about
that?”
“My
techniques are too advanced for the rest of the world to master,” Lutts said
with a chuckle.
“That
is what the Americans said until the Russians wiped the smiles off their
faces. In fact the Russians did it
twice. First the atomic bomb and
then the H-bomb.”
“Well,
I don’t have any spies in my outfit.”
“Are
you sure?” the Monsignor said in a firm voice.
“Nice
try, but every one of my employees has an RFID under their skin. What they don’t know is that I have made
a few tweaks to it. My data on my
employees is monitored round the clock.”
“And
you think your Big Brother invasion of privacy will convince me you can be
trusted you won’t tweak humanity into your personal zombies at some later
date?”
“And
how would you protect this technology?
Do you want me to kill my workmen like the Pharaohs of Egypt did?” Lutts
said with a sneer.
The
robots now came with four plates of food.
It looked very British – roast beef, new potatoes and peas. Frank gestured to me and said in a low
voice, “Check this stuff for drugs.”
I quickly took samples and analyzed each item and found them fit for
human consumption. I gave Frank the
thumb’s up. The Monsignor noticed
what I was doing. It seems he also
was tired of waking up in places he did not remember going to.
Lutts
seemed to not notice Frank’s and the Monsignor’s concern for the food and
continued his conversation, “As to protecting the technology only Dr. Larson and
I know the full details. Most of
the workers are given only enough information to complete their tasks. Once I have completed my giant step for
mankind I intend to dismantle the production equipment that only I
operated. Even the code I wrote
myself.”
The
Princess looked at her husband with a credulous frown and said, “Mr. Huntington
is right. Don’t be so naïve,
Terrance, once the world knows you were the mastermind then other scientists
will know it is possible and figure it out. After all, look at how India is always
stealing technology from China and the United States. You are opening up a Pandora’s
box.”
The
Monsignor put down his fork and joined in, “She is right, Sir Terrance. Once the forbidden fruit is tasted it
will be impossible to stop the temptation to repeat using this dangerous
technology. Humans are weak. There are still countries that are
controlled by despots. They would
give anything to assure their people are enslaved.”
“You
are correct about despots wanting to mind control their people. Most of the time they use religion or
the cult of the personality to do that.
Once my nano-vectors do their magic those tools that despots love to use
will no longer work. Just one of
the many fringe benefits an atheist world will give us.”
“Do
you think a non-religious world will make men righteous enough to not desire
power?” the Monsignor asked Sir Terrance.
“Sadly,
no. There is only so much man-made
evolution one can do to humankind and still leave it human. Humanity has made a lot of progress the
last one thousand years in allowing power to reside in a ballot box. I feel very strongly that without
religion more humans will act humanly.
Perhaps when we conquer aging we can acquire the wisdom to see the folly
of seeking domination over our fellow humans. I can see that future coming and so, dear wife and
gentlemen, I have no desire to hold control over the world no longer than I need
to rid us of religion. I leave
running the world to the governments of the world.”
“What
if you are not completely successful in ridding the world of religion? What if half the world remains
religious? Won’t that ruin your
plans?” asked his wife.
“I
doubt anyone could stop enough of my plan to have that happen. Even with just the Holy Land transformed
the world has already been changed greatly for the better. That pernicious festering hole has been
changed into a Woodstock. Soon Rome, Mecca, and all the other religious centers
in the world will –“
Our
host was not able to finish his sentence because just then a deep rumble was
heard and felt by all. Seconds
later the robot by Sir Terrance handed him an earbuds and a buttonport. After he put it in I could see his face
go gray. Whatever data he was
receiving it was not data he liked.
I could feel an increase in the electromagnetic fields. There were robots about. Lutts barked orders about launching a
counter attack and unleashing the F-23 defense. Lutts finally turned his eyes towards
his guests and said, “It seems your old friend Col. Mann is paying us a
visit. I must excuse myself from
the table and attend to his forces.”
Sir
Terrance walked briskly over to a door behind him and opened it. Smoke billowed out and he shut it
immediately. After that he barked
some more into his buttonport and stood by his livery robots. He looked confused. Smoke started to come in through the
vents and from under the door Sir Terrance had previously opened. He looked towards his livery robots and
said, “Protect your master and make sure our guests do not leave.” The ship’s intercom now announced the
order to abandon ship. I could not
feel any change in the plane of the ship.
I doubted we were sinking, but I knew the smoke might pose a problem to
humans.
Lutts
finally moved to the opposite end of the dining room and opened a door that did
not bring more smoke billowing into the room. I could see there was a hint of smoke in
the hallway, but nothing dangerous to master’s health. Lutts pulled out of his pocket a small
9mm gun and said to everyone in the room, “Follow me.”
And
so we followed him out into the hall.
Lutts started running and we followed course. I think our motivation was
not so much as following his lead, but that we could hear and feel explosions
going off inside the ship. Lutts
opened a hatch and revealed a stairwell.
He started to sprint up the stairs.
It was not necessary for anyone to talk. I think everyone realized that smoke,
explosions and ships are a bad mix.
After sprinting up three flights of stairs Lutts threw open a door and
held it open for us. I was the last
one out and I saw we were now outside on the main deck. Lutts yelled for us to follow him to the
front of the ship where we could take a helicopter. The Monsignor was keeping close to me
for some reason. Frank and the
Princess were only a few steps back from Sir Terrance. We started to sprint toward the front of
the ship when all of a sudden we were surrounded by small flying drones. At least three buzzed around each of the
humans heads. First I heard the
drones command the Monsignor to not move.
I could hear the drones around the Princess and Frank’s head command them
to stay still, too. Lutts had about
three or four drones buzzing about his head, but he was not slowing down. He looked back at Frank and the Princess
and yelled, “Ignore them – come on.”
No sooner than he had said that then the drones attached themselves to
Sir Lutt’s head and exploded. It
was rather a surreal view. A cloud
of red formed where his head once was visible and then his headless trunk just
fell to the ground. The red cloud
in what seemed slow motion drifted down towards the quivering body. Frank and the Princess had still been
progressing forward but at a much slower pace. The gap between Lutts and them had grown
to more than 25 feet. They did not
know if they should obey the drones or follow Lutts. His vaporized head made them stop in
their tracks. The look on both the
Princess’s and Frank’s faces was one of shock and disbelief.
The
Princess spoke first, “Oh my God they killed him.”
Frank
didn’t say anything. He just
wondered who was ‘they’.
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