The Mammoth Book of New Jules Verne Adventures (38 page)

“It was Mr Green and
that Mr Darley. They were getting very hot under the collar. It was after the
sampling. They just started disagreeing with each other. It was most unseemly.”

Maddy knew from what
Nicholas had told her of Town Board affairs that such behaviour was quite out
of character for the two misters. She wondered what could possibly be behind
it.

“Thank you, Tracy. I
think that will be all for now.” Nicholas’s eyes had wandered back to the main
panel of his veescreen, but he was clearly perturbed by these happenings. “My
associate and I were dealing with pressing matters.”

So, she was his
associate, was she? That must be good. Tracy’s buddy window popped away.

Pressing matters . . .

“That Bud’s a jerk,”
said Maddy.

After a long pause,
Nicholas nodded. “Yes,” he agreed. “He certainly is.”

In which Maddy and Nicholas pay a visit to
Dr Bull and it emerges that the good doctor
may not be all that he seems

Who, then, was this man
who went by the name of Dr Bull?

He was, it’s fair to
say, something of a one-off. In an age of sitting back and having the world
come to you, Dr Bull was a man who went out and instigated things. He was a
doer. A thinker, too; in fact, it was in the area of scholarly endeavour that
his star shone the brightest. He had presented papers to the Royal Society, and
published in the world’s leading journals — unusually, ranging across a wide
spectrum of specialisms, from physiology through psychology and sociology to
logic and telecommunications. He had studied at the finest institutions, and
challenged some of the greatest scholars of his time; certain observers had
even described him as the great revolutionary thinker of the age. To any
onlooker aware of the doctor’s background, his current occupation as proprietor
in chief of Sunny Meadows’ NutriMent feed might appear to be something of a
departure. Such an onlooker would not be surprised to learn that Dr Bull had
assumed this position in order to make improvements and refinements to the
system, or even that he was treating such intervention as a grand experiment,
upon which he and his able assistant Gideon Eden were making copious notes.

Dr Bull was a man of
medium height, and he would also have been of medium build were it not for a
slight tendency to over-indulge. Now, he sat back behind his deep oak desk and
plucked another marshmallow from a silver dish. “Well, Gideon, well indeed!” he
said, biting a quarter from the marshmallow. “These people of Sunny Meadows —
we know from our preliminary study that they are the dullest, flattest, least
animated people in the land. For animation they are midway between sponges and
coral! And yet, at my little demonstration — transformed! They bickered and
they questioned. They expressed opinions! We have seen the first ripple in a
dull, flat expanse of water.”

“You heard Darley and Green?” asked young Gideon.

The doctor nodded. “No
harm was done,” he said. “That two men, normally so close to comatose, should
come close to blows was an interesting outcome, this early in the game. We will
have to monitor the inputs, I think.”

The assistant dipped his
head in agreement.

Dr Bull beamed at him. “I
think the time has come to extend our trials,” he said. ‘We should tackle a
public space. Just think, Gideon: if things carry on like this we could
transform the world!”

Gideon smiled back. The
two were, quite clearly, very pleased with how things were progressing.

As, too, was Maddy
Wheatfen. Very pleased indeed! For, right at this moment, she was on her way to
visit Dr Bull himself. The previous evening, after well over an hour’s buddy
chat with Nicholas consisting of little more than half a dozen remarks by each,
Nicholas had suddenly become more animated. Daintily licking cream from his
fingertips, having just consumed an oversized éclair from his NutriMent outlet,
he had fixed Maddy’s gaze and said, “We shall confront him! That’s what we will
do.”

Caught out, Maddy tried
desperately to think back to the last remark either of them had made. Confront
whom? Why? How? She gave up and simply nodded. It seemed like the right
response.

A few minutes later,
Nicholas added, “In the morning, I think. One can’t rush in, after all.”

Right now, as she fussed
with her appearance, and tried to remember the things she needed — keycard . .
. well, that was about it — Maddy felt that they were rushing things
nonetheless, and then she realized that she quite liked the sensation. She
couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Nicholas
in actuo.
She
sucked her lips in to moisten them, remembering gorgeous Tracy’s pout.

She went outside.

The sun was bright. Too
bright. The air moved, and smelled different. It all seemed so . . .
uncontained.
When was the last time she’d seen
anybody?
She stood on the
threshold, unsteadily. Had he actually meant this? Maybe Nicholas had been
talking about confronting whoever was to be confronted on the vee. Did you know
that you don’t have to call it a buddy window? It’s really easy to change the
labelling, so some people might be buddies, others slaves, or heart-throbs, or
subhumans; maybe Nicholas was meaning to confront this person via an
arch-antagonist window? Last night, Nicholas had been in a sweetheart window,
not that he had known.

But no. He had been
quite clear. He had wanted Maddy to come for him, in person.

She liked driving,
although she could barely remember the last time she had done so. She liked the
sense of power, of control. She liked to be actually doing something,
participating instead of merely viewing. Her car rolled out of the parking
niche and a door opened. “To the home of Nicholas van Pommel,” she told it,
when she was settled in the driving seat. As the car set off, she adjusted the
seating position to give herself a little more room. She wondered what it must
be like to have to do steering and speed and directions, all at the same time.
It was hard to imagine. No wonder people used to need training before they
could drive.

Soon, Nicholas was
climbing in to join her. “Thank you so much, Maddy,” he said. “So kind of you.”

Dr Bull lived in a house
that was older than those around it. It had probably been here before even
Sunny Meadows. The two stepped out, and Maddy told her car to go park. Dr Bull’s
front door did not respond to their voices, but there was a sturdy-looking bell
suspended to one side. Nicholas nodded towards it and said, “Do you think we
should?” Maddy shrugged. They could, she supposed, but was it necessarily the
right thing to do? What if it were there for show and there was some more
subtle means of getting a response from the door?

The door opened while
they were still deliberating, and a rather handsome young man bowed in
greeting. Maddy was just adjusting her mental image of what Dr Bull must look
like when she learned that this was, in fact, the doctor’s assistant, Gideon
Eden.

“You would like to see
the doctor?” he said. “Of course. Please follow me.”

They did so.

“Please, wait here,”
said Gideon, gesturing towards two chairs and a tray of pastries. They were in
the doctor’s study.

They sat, but the
silence between them was not the normal comfortable silence of vee buddies:
Maddy saw in the occasional glance around the room, and the clumsiness with
pastry crumbs, that her friend was . . . yes, she was sure, he was getting
impatient. That was not like Nicholas, at all.

She found herself
glancing at the door, as if that would speed things along. Where
was
the stupid man?

The doctor entered the
room, apologising for the delay; he was accompanied by his assistant, who
remained standing by the door. Dr Bull was almost exactly as she had pictured
him, which she realized was probably because she had seen him on the vee at some
time. He was an eminent man, after all.

The doctor seated
himself behind his wide desk. He placed his elbows on the wooden surface and
steepled his fingers in front of his nose. Finally, he said, “Yes?”

Nicholas nodded. “It has
been some time since we had the pleasure,” he said. He took another cake and
bit deeply.

“So it has,” said Dr
Bull. “Although I don’t believe
we’ve
had the pleasure,” he added, nodding towards Maddy.

As Nicholas was busy
with his confectionery, Maddy decided to make the introductions. “I’m Maddy,”
she said. Then she decided to elaborate: “I am an associate of Mr van Pommel.”

“My pleasure,” said the
doctor.

“Mine too,” said Maddy.
This all seemed to be going terribly well.

“I had hoped to attend
yesterday’s demonstration,” said Nicholas. “But you know how it is. These
things can’t be rushed.” Then he leaned forward with his hands on his knees. “In
fact, that’s exactly it, Dr Bull. Here in Sunny Meadows we never rush what can
be done at a sensible pace. We like to measure ourselves, and deal with things
in their own good time. I hear that your demonstration caused something of a
controversy, and in my role as Deputy Chair of the Town Advisory Board I feel
it is my duty to investigate. We can’t be having these . . . these
reactions
in Sunny Meadows.”

The doctor seemed
amused. “And yet, here you are, in my study,” he said. “That seems very
spontaneous.”

Nicholas drew himself
up. “We considered the matter at length before rushing here to see you,” he
said.

“Go on, go on,” said the
doctor, waving a hand at the pastries, having seen Nicholas’s gaze wandering
back to a particular cream and jam extravagance. “I’m glad you’re here,”
continued Dr Bull, leaning forward. “You strike me as both fine examples of the
upstanding citizenry of Sunny Meadows.”

Maddy felt a surge of
pride at this. She didn’t upstand often, if she could help it, but it was nice
to know that her qualities had been recognized.

“What would you two say
if I told you that we of Sunny Meadows are on the verge of something revolutionary?
Something that would have our community leading the way instead of sitting back
and watching? What would you say to that?”

Maddy quite liked the
sound of the words, even though she had no idea what he meant. She looked at
Nicholas, expecting him to have that slightly-raised eyebrow of angry
resistance. It wasn’t there. He nodded instead, and said, “It would be our
proper place!”

“My little demonstration
yesterday was a success. And now I must confess that you have been part of a
repeat. The cakes — you like them?”

Nicholas looked at them.
Now his eyebrow was just a little raised, out of curiosity. “My favourite,” he
said. “Particularly after the exertion of travel.”

“I know,” said the
doctor. “Or rather, I don’t know: the system does. Over the last few weeks my
modernised NutriMentPlus system has modelled your preferences, and ninety-nine
per cent of the time it knows what you want before even you know it. When the
system is fully operational it will do this wherever you go: stop off at
anywhere with an outlet and it will recognize you and deliver what you want
without you having to do a thing.”

“Not have to do a thing,
you say? That seems a very Sunny Meadows approach.”

Dr Bull smiled.

“When will it be
available to everyone?” asked Maddy. It seemed unfair that only a select few
should be benefiting from this revolution.

“Oh, you know,” said the
doctor. “We can hardly rush into these things. We must proceed cautiously, at a
sensible pace.”

“We should consider such
matters at length,” said his assistant. Maddy had forgotten he was there,
standing by the door.

“In the fullness of
time,” said the doctor.

Nicholas leaned forward
and banged his fists on Dr Bull’s desk. “I want it
now!”
he cried.

The doctor seemed amused
by this uncharacteristic outburst. He paused to make a note on a block of
paper, then glanced at his assistant.

“Perhaps,” said Gideon, “we
could tighten up the schedule. Move critical points forward, that kind of
thing.”

Dr Bull nodded. “Then it
is agreed,” he said. “We will proceed with all possible haste.”

In which the risen come,
blinking, into the sunlight

All returned to normal
in Sunny Meadows. The altercation at Dr Bull’s little demonstration was soon
put aside as Messers Green and Darley resumed their amicable acquaintance by
vee. Nicholas van Pommel’s outburst in the doctor’s study was easily forgotten,
as Maddy would tell no-one, although she stored the memory of her friend’s
animation for moments of personal recollection.

Maddy had signed up for
ExerThighs
^TM
 classes, every Wednesday in the Sunny Meadows Amenity
Centre, starting this week. She drove there, telling the car to park as close
as she could get, and then went into the building. There were lots of kids
here, and for a moment she thought she had come to the wrong place. They stood
around in small, grunting groups, heads hung low, eyes glazed from too much
vee. Then she remembered that there were games sessions today, too, and she
understood why they were here: while she was upstairs thumping about to some
ancient disco beat, these kids would be playing shoot-’em-ups on the vee. It
got them out of the house, she supposed.