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Chapter 3:
Two new recruits

Barton’s
instructions for Adam were simple:

1) Take
Madeline away and keep her safe.

2) Wait for
Madeline to activate.

How Barton
wished his tasks were as simple as Adam’s. The genius professor
desperately wanted assistance, wanted others to share in his
challenge but the best people were either dead or handcuffed.
However there were other geniuses available and shortly he had come
up with two names. He was well aware that geniuses are often
eccentric, unreliable and questionable. Only Angela had proved to
be made of the right stuff and for that virtue she was horribly
murdered.

By the time
Barton had driven to the hospital to see his daughter, spent some
fatherly time with her and driven back to the farm house, two new
recruits were waiting impatiently. The first was Doctor Pierre
Merlu, a specialist in biomechanics, the second was Dean Hake,
specialising in computer science and electronics. Both were sitting
in their cars, desperate for the toilet, dying for a cup of tea and
eager for an explanation. Intentionally he ushered them away from
the cow shed and into the house, made them a drink, showed them
where the toilet was and talked a little about the beautiful
countryside and the inclement weather. Several minutes of valuable
time were consumed, wastefully, but specifically for a purpose.

‘You talked
about a critically ill patient with a unique illness. As much as I
love this part of the country and take an interest in the weather,
I do have other commitments. So exactly where
is
the
patient?’ asked Pierre Merlu, speaking in perfect Oxford English
despite clearly having a French name.

‘You said it
was a life and death situation, you don’t seem to be in much of a
hurry.’ complained Dean Hake.

Barton relaxed
his pleasantries. ‘Before I commit myself, I have to be fully
satisfied that I have chosen the right people for the job… I
believe that I have. I want you to be fully aware that everything
you see and do here is totally classified. What you are about to
see is extraordinary and unique and is imperative that you keep
tight lipped. Three people associated with the project are now dead
so loose tongues will certainly endanger your own lives, even your
family’s… So if anything I’ve just said has put you off, thank you
for your time, please leave now and forget I ever asked you.’

He waited for
any reactions including rejections or questions, there weren’t any.
That was it, they were now in the team, he hoped he had chosen well
because two more people were about to know all about the Madeline
Bull project. He directed them out of the house, across the yard,
unlocked the cow shed door and encouraged them to go in.

‘Welcome to the
Madeline Bull project.’

Dean Hake and
Pierre Merlu looked at the charred rafters, the smoke stained
equipment and then they looked at each other.

‘Is this some
kind of joke!?’ Hake ranted.

‘I wish it was.
This is what remains of the project and in that tank over there is
what I need your skills for.’

Barton motioned
them over to the open tank, the home of Poppy Cock.

‘Remarkable,
Simulated Human Integrated Transmogrify... and who is the subject?’
asked Merlu.

‘You’re
familiar with the process?’ asked a surprised Barton.

‘I have some
experience, yes. I did my thesis in human robotic control. Am I
right in thinking there is an associated transceptor?’ asked
Merlu.

‘Transceptor –
a new kind of dinosaur, I presume?’ Hake suggested light
heartedly.

‘Transceptor:
simply a receiving medium that is linked to a controlling force
over distance. In this case I assume it’s an automaton controlled
by a human, yes?’ probed Merlu.

‘Err... yes
precisely.’ confirmed Barton.

‘Bloody hell,
so that’s what this is all about - That young female who’s been in
all the papers. A one woman army accredited to terminating several
evil folk with unusual talents, she’s a drone then?’ asked Hake
excitedly.

‘Well, it
seems, gentlemen, no gaps need to be filled in. You are up and
running to speed. Shall we get started?’ suggested Barton.

And so they
did. Fresh white lab coats miraculously appeared and expensive
looking folding tool boxes were opened up. It seemed that Barton
couldn’t have chosen better; he just hoped they would live up to
his expectations. Despite the complexity of the project, cleaning,
rewiring and component changing were essentially the tasks to be
performed. Barton’s specialities were manifold but immediately his
skills were directed towards Poppy’s welfare. Remarkably she was
alive. She had survived the fire and all its qualities. She sported
a strong heart beat, her breathing was steady and fortunately she
was unconscious. Hopefully he could get her entertainment system
working before she regained consciousness and then she could watch
this week’s episode of
Downton Abbey.

Chapter 4:
Adam and Jenny

Where would be
the safest place to take Madeline? The Isle of Skye in Scotland
strangely materialised in Adam’s mind. This was odd because he had
never visited any part of the land of the kilts and bagpipes before
and had no idea of where the Isle of Skye was. All he knew was that
it was a long way up the M6 and then some. First though, he had to
visit his home in Bristol.

It had been a
while... in fact it had been several weeks since he’d been back to
his modest town house in Bristol. In that time he had done a lot:
Experienced the delights of South Wales, including Barry Island,
faced death, been shot at... twice, almost blown up, poked in his
neck with a gun, been gassed, crammed mercilessly into a car boot
and recovered a dead body from a culvert. On the other hand life
had been thrilling, stimulating and wonderful. This was mainly
because he had been reunited with Poppy, his fiancée who was now
Madeline and who was now very much asleep. The last time he graced
the threshold there was an awkward moment with his lesbian lodger
Jenny. This time the moment contrasted sharply with the previous
one - Jenny was very pleased to see him and gave him a peck on the
cheek and a tight hug. This somewhat took Adam by surprise.

‘Lovely to see
you too!’ said Adam, marginally embarrassed.

Adam entered
his
house even though he distinctly had the feeling that he
was the guest. He stepped in to
his
lounge and had a quick
glance around; nothing had changed except that it was unusually
tidy.

‘Where’ve you
been, I’ve missed you? The last I heard, you were in hospital with
bullet wounds in your legs, my poor little soldier,’ said Jenny
softly.

Firstly he
wasn’t Jenny’s little anything and secondly he wasn’t a soldier. He
raced up the stairs without replying. Ten minutes later raced down
the stairs even faster. In the ten minutes he had packed a small
case and shaved off his small goatee beard. Jenny cornered him
again at the bottom of the stairs. For some reason she had removed
a layer of clothing.

‘You’ve shaved
your goatee off, it was growing on me,’ said Jenny slightly
groaning.

‘A spontaneous
thing, not sure why I did really, the razor was there and next
thing, it was off.’

Impulsively,
Jenny gently caressed his new soft cheeks with both hands. Her
pupils dilated slightly, her eyes sparkled in a saucy way and
without any warning pulled his lips to hers and began to kiss
intensely. Immediately, after no more than thirty seconds, Adam
forcibly broke free and Jenny did too, recoiling in shock of what
she had just done.

‘Jenny, what
the…? I thought you were…?’

‘Gay? I am! Oh
my God, why I did that? I don’t know what came over me.’

She glanced
down at what she wasn’t wearing. She grabbed the hall curtains and
tried her best to wrap herself in them and make herself decent.

‘I’m so sorry,
I really don’t know what came over me.’

‘Don’t
apologise, I quite enjoyed it, especially how you did that bit with
the end of your ton…’

‘…I’m so
embarrassed,’ interrupted Jenny. ‘If I was straight, obviously
you’d be up those stairs and I’d have you, Madeline or no Madeline
but… yaky yak! Girls are so much nicer to kiss!’

‘No offence
taken… Anyway, if you were straight, you wouldn’t be staying here,’
said Adam.

‘No offence
taken… but if I was straight, I wouldn’t dare stay here!’ said
Jenny.

She hastily
rushed up stairs leaving Adam admiring his new clean shaven look in
the wall mirror. A few moments later Jenny reappeared, now decently
dressed.

‘By the way,
something important you ought to know, there’s been two men
pestering me almost on a daily basis wanting to know your
whereabouts. They wouldn’t go away. They’ve been sitting in a car
outside for nearly a fortnight, look.’

Jenny gently
moved back the net curtains of the bay window.

‘Well, would
you credit it, they’ve gone! I’m sure they were here a few minutes
ago.’

Now it was
Adam’s turn to look out of the window.

‘Fuck!’ Adam
justifiably swore. ‘They’ve taken her!’

Adam had not
heeded Barton’s warning. True, he had been distracted somewhat but
who the hell would kidnap a snoozing robot out of a parked car down
a quiet street in Bristol? But... they had. Just to make it easy
for who ever they were, Adam hadn’t even bothered to lock the car.
Adam rushed out into the street and pointlessly searched the
interior of the Volvo.

‘Shit, shit,
fuck, fuck, shit!’

Adam’s blood
pressure instantly reached a dangerous level – his head and neck
performed a neat colour change trick that all known androids,
including Madeline Bull, cannot do. Sweat spontaneously formed on
his red brow, steam ejected from his red ears and his collar melted
into his damp neck. He had cocked up his simple mission almost
before it had begun. He side steeped the imaginary hole that had
open up before him just before it swallowed him up... and then
phoned Barton.

‘Hi... err...
little problem, well really huge actually, Madeline appears to have
been kidnapped.’

Barton was not
one for dramatics, yelling down his mobile phone would not help
matters. The tone of his reply almost reflected an expectation that
this would happen.

‘How long?’

‘Literally
minutes ago.’

‘Naturally you
have to find her. I would imagine, whoever they are, their priority
is to get her out of the country as quickly as possible. Where are
you?’

‘At home -
Bristol. Was going to take her to Scotland, didn’t get very
far….’

‘Apparently
not... Look, her system is down at the moment. As soon as I have
the link up, I’ll concentrate on overriding her eyesight - maybe
we’ll get some clues from what she can see. Perhaps one day we’ll
fit her with a tracker... Have you got a smart phone?’

‘Yes, pretty
smart.’

‘Good, I’ll let
you know when she’s active – you’ll be able to access her sight. In
the mean time do your best – there must be some clues around.’

This was not
one of Adam’s better days. Pathetic, useless, incompetent, twerp,
were words Barton hadn’t used, he was far too polite to say what he
was thinking. Adam was determined to put matters right, he had to
find Madeline.

‘Jenny, can you
describe the men?’

‘Normal really,
medium height, Jeans and jacket, white skinned.’

‘Had they got
an accent?’

‘Yes, now you
come to mention it.’

‘Great,
what?’

‘Don’t know,
definitely an accent.’

‘Great! – I’ll
go and search the gutter.’

Whoever they
were, they had been brought up properly. Nothing what-so-ever
discarded through the car window, nothing left in the gutter, not
even a fag end dropped. Adam scratched the back of his head; his
eyes panned across the familiar street. The light was fading, soon
that would be that, he might as well go inside, watch TV, open a
can and eat something. What a bloody good idea, he thought, when
did
I last eat? But then he noticed an overflowing litter
bin attached to a nearby lamp post.

Perhaps the
kitchen worktop was not the best place to sift through the entire
contents of a public litter bin but the bright fluorescent pelmet
lighting was in his favour. As he suspected, almost the entire
contents were associated with a long stay in a car - mostly take
away leftovers and packaging, several empty fag packets and fag
ends, empty cans of pop and one soggy, stained, foreign newspaper.
Jenny walked in.

‘Adam! What the
hell!’

She was not
best pleased at the unhygienic waste scattered across the expanse
where she buttered her toast, rolled out pastry and chopped her
veg. Adam had migrated across to a clear bit of worktop with the
foreign newspaper.

‘I’ll clear it
up in a min.’

‘You’d
better... What’ you looking at? You’ll find that’s Polish.’

‘You know
Polish?’

‘No but I know
‘Nowosci’ is a Polish paper, seen it at work, some of the Polish
contractors read it.

‘Poland!
They’ve taken her to Poland!’ exclaimed Adam.

‘Who’s taken
who?’ asked Jenny.

‘Those men...
they’ve taken Madeline to Poland.’

‘Madeline?
Poland? Why would they do that?’ asked Jenny, incredulously.

‘Yes, yes,
Poland... Need my passport!’

Adam bounded up
the stairs, leaving Jenny somewhat puzzled with his rash conclusion
and annoyed that in the short time Adam had been home he had
managed to decimate her lovely rented kitchen.

‘I’ll tidy up
later.’ Adam shouted down from his seriously underused bedroom.

‘Yes, yes, of
course you will!’ said Jenny, she knew that later could mean weeks,
if not months and she wanted her kitchen back well before tea time.
There was no point in making a scene, pointless complaining, he was
afterall, a single, undomesticated man and this was one of the many
penalties of sharing a house with one. Besides, on reflection it
would be better to clear the mess up herself. If Adam did
eventually take on the job, he certainly wouldn’t disinfect the
surfaces or recycle the rubbish in the correct coloured bins.
Moments later Adam launched himself down the stairs skirting over
most of the steps.