⭐ CHAPTER ONE 

No light penetrated my haven as I began to wake, for the only two windows set high along the eastern wall at street level were guarded by thick automatic metal shutters. I lived this way because I was no longer the man I used to be. Instead of friends and family, I believed in extra security. Instead of leaving things open to good possibilities, I now believed in control. Instead of beautiful sunsets, starry nights, romantic evenings dancing cheek‑to‑cheek in an expensive setting with the finest food and atmosphere available — I believed in the end of the world.

I was previously a bank manager who shared a friendly personal attitude within the community. If someone called me in the middle of the night about their cat up a tree, I fixed it. Now I just let the market fix the share price. This needed a certain amount of knowledge, but nevertheless, with a keen nose for when or when not to buy, this little doggy had found some very big bones for his clients to chew on.

I threw some water over my face and stared at myself in the mirror. My wife was right. I did look like Harrison Ford. But with two weeks’ growth I resembled an older version of this annoying character who had stolen my identity with first impressions from many customers in days past.

I had a roommate who lived with me. He didn’t eat much and kept to himself: Billy, my pet budgie. When Billy stopped filling the loneliness I felt, I had a brainstorm to fill that hole with an A1 computer companion. I built a system with state‑of‑the‑art software and hardware. But as much as I tried, our interactions left a lot to be desired.

An original Star Wars clock radio came to life, heralding the theme tune followed by the ten o’clock news. I didn’t stir. The news finished and a forlorn song played quietly and unobtrusively. Begrudgingly, I walked past the comfort of my brand‑new queen‑sized bed. My bed had only arrived last week — an internet purchase like everything else around here. I had it delivered by my only contact to the outside world, Arnold. I may have disappeared from the outside world, but from the inside world, only Arnold could get me out. As you’ll come to see, if you’re not needing your security phone already?

I hit a button on the wall and the thick metal shutters snapped open. Instantly the sound of the street above filtered into the room with the morning light. I walked over and removed the black cotton cover from my pet budgie’s lamp‑leg cage and folded it neatly away. Billy already knew the sun was up, as he ran along his rest chatting to himself and squawking comments like: “Mr Sulu, ahead warp one,” and “Use the force, Luke.” Countless hours watching sci‑fi movies had brainwashed poor Billy better than a Vulcan mind‑meld.

My fondness for sci‑fi was a mystery to me. I didn’t want to be an astronaut or break down complicated mathematics for space flight. And I certainly didn’t see myself as Han Solo. I was clever with maths and my solar and electrical knowledge quite capable. Sadly, my life had taken on a strange trajectory.

Continuing on my trajectory, I reached the kitchen, turned the kettle on and got out a clean mug. At the end of the long bench, amongst other things, were the fridge‑freezer, toaster, microwave, and on top of it, my wedding ring.

I began to sing along in a croaky, unconvincing voice with the radio.

“Long ago… and oh so far away… I fell in love with you… before the second show…”

The radio continued to play its own Downey‑style sweet and clear, while I fixed myself my first coffee.

“But you’re not really here… it’s just the radio…”

Billy squawked.

“OK Billy, I am coming. Keep your feathers on… sleep well? Another day where the likes of you and me and the powers‑that‑be put everything up by another Altairian dollar.”

I lifted up the door to the feeder, blew off some chaff and filled it with the last of the fresh quality seed.

“At least I don’t have to rush out to get more seed. As you know, Arnold’s delivering your three‑month supply of seed from the food‑mart today. He might come early again,” I realised.

I pressed some bread in through the bars of his cage and waited. Billy made his way quickly over and held on to it with one claw, gnawing at the seedy bread. I loved Billy. I looked over towards the bridge with some foreboding.

“Best get started on sending Fitzgerald’s report. I told him I’d have it ready for him at ten today… and it is. All I’ve got to do is log in, attach my invoice and send it. Fitzgerald, as of yet, hasn’t responded to my email regarding the increase to my fee,” I explained to Billy. “Well, to be fair, he is smart with his money, no question of that, or he wouldn’t have so much lolly.”

I stepped up onto my own modest attempt at the bridge of a starship. Not short on expenses, but no major studio job either. An authentic Star Trek chair from season two was my most expensive purchase. When I won the bid, I thought it excellent value.

Seated and nurtured in my retro throne, I gazed out on the universe: a one‑hundred‑inch screen bolted onto the brick wall. It was powered, I may add, by a triple quad‑core processor. Ultra HD LED LCD and AI ThinQ smart. It also boasted a 100W stereo speaker system with DTS Virtual:X virtual surround technology and Adaptive Sound Control for the clearest of audio output. No handheld for me. Well, not exactly. I also owned several communication devices of intergalactic proportions — and some illegal ones.

“Captain’s Log!” I began, and with those secret words my computer activated into life. Smooth red and blue lights in the black ceiling glowed slowly brighter. Several added electrical beeps and hums (which I added for effect) finished the deal.

“Good morning, Captain.”

“Good morning,” I muttered under my breath. “I hope.”

“Awaiting your command, Captain.”

“Open my work emails please, computer.”

I still had not named my computer. In fact, I was not altogether sure it would be a good idea to do so. Her voice was a little too alluring. Besides all this, I had spent a small fortune and weeks programming the latest and fastest hard drives. My solo fantasy‑man existence was made more bearable by the comforting patience of modern technology — until it stopped working.

The female voice that spoke to me was wise and patient, but her ability to manage simple tasks did not fit the persona. I could easily read my emails from twenty feet away, and at the top of the inbox, a Mr. Fitzgerald email stared back at me titled:

“Where is the bloody report, Tim?”

“Poor old Fitzgerald. What about a little decorum? I have just woken up! It took me two weeks to sort out your botched‑up stocks and shares. Billy! Do something!”

Billy chipped in.

“Shazbat!”

“Exactly!”

“Awaiting your command, Captain.”

“Radio on, thank you. That is all, computer.”

“Radio on, Captain.”

I sighed. I talked too much to myself. I had become a bore. I needed a spark of controversy to get my blood pumping, and I knew just the man. My radio spoke to me in southern, cheery acknowledgment, as if I were part of a wider group of valued listeners. I didn’t believe it for a second.

“Good morning folks, if you could call it a good morning after the recent events further up north where the lockdown is leaving our beautiful beaches empty for the last week. I’m Bob Bruce. I’ll be with you for the next two hours as I let you in on a few secrets that people don’t want you to know about the stupid pandemic. That’s what I do. Did you know that the recent rise in real‑estate pricing was manipulated by the need for lockdown? I’ll be talking to today’s whistle‑blower, who’s going to fill us all in on how a small area of the government invested in housing prices to increase. Did I say increase? It swept across the state in less than three months. Clever so‑and‑so’s? No, just wait until you’ve heard what they’ve got to say and you’ll be a believer just like the monkeys. Come to think of it, we’re being treated like monkeys.”

“God… is that how it happened? Made me rich but made my bills richer too, Bob,” I said. I didn’t doubt it.

The radio continued to stoke the listeners’ fire, but I was over blowing my top over issues of contention for radio jockeys riding clowns like me to the bank, and I had better things to do.

“Computer!”

“Awaiting your command, Captain.”

“Text reply to Fitzgerald email.”

“Awaiting text, Captain,” she replied, in her usual three‑second delay.

“Here is your completed work assignment, full stop. Please find adjusted invoice attached, full stop. Sincerely, Tim Clark.”

I watched the words appear on the screen.

“Computer, attach Fitzgerald invoice to this email.”

“Attached.”

I watched and was happy that this time the computer had attached the correct invoice. It had caused more than a little embarrassment last week when the attachment for the local church had contained myself dressed as Darth Maul on Halloween.

“Send!”

I watched as it sent and wondered about her ability to launch a warp‑speed attack on Fitzgerald’s computer. Still, I liked having clients, and my computer had as much chance as zero.

“Should have another happy customer after he reads that, Billy — the stupid fool. Like Mr T would say: fool! Just looking for another way to make more money. He already has enough. He doesn’t know how to take the time to enjoy life. It’s all about amounts, budgets, bottom lines and totals these days, Billy. What is the world coming to? They can shove their masks.”

I checked the stock market report. Masks continued to rise.

“Phasers on stun!” Billy warned.

“Computer, how about a coffee?”

Before the three seconds lapsed, I dismissed it and hopped down from the bridge to the kitchen. I continued with my now‑ready organic coffee in hand and, with self‑satisfaction all over my blurry‑eyed face, returned to the bridge to read my remaining emails.

“There are no more new emails, Captain.”

“Thank you, computer. That is fine with me.”

I began to connect to my favourite sites, which mainly offered sci‑fi, UFO, bigfoot, sea monster, psychic, ghost stories and, of course, Wall Street — the scariest site of all. I leaned back with little surprise at the markets and, with a simple command, changed websites.

“Hey, listen to this, Billy? A farmer and his son watched Nessie climb out of the lake and lie on the bank of Loch Ness for an hour. They described it as being over thirty feet long, head like a turtle, flippers, and when barked at by the farmer’s dog, became annoyed. Hey, here’s ‘Loching’ at you, kid. Nessie was only trying to get some peace, just like me. It must be hard with every farmer and their dog after you. It must be a family of them. She’s been recorded as first being sighted since the year 565.”

Time passed by as I read unfinished emails as a member of both the Star Wars and Star Trek fan clubs. I had retreated back to my youth — to happier times — through these clubs (if you hadn’t already guessed), though I kept that to myself. I had met stiff resistance, if not outright mockery, from some of my fellow students and friends when I revealed my passion for Star Trek. My parents cared little about my interests in space pop culture. Their only son was keen on a banking career. That was all that mattered.

“Star Wars is planning a new movie!”

I read the complete story, then moved on.

 

⭐ CHAPTER TWO

Billy whistled.

“Front page of UFO Monthly. Aliens contact people in different parts of the earth and say the world is in danger from a supernova brought on by a rogue planet collision!”

I sat back into my chair and cast a watchful eye at my cupboards with enough tinned food and bottled water to last another ten lockdowns. My thoughts drifted as I quickly checked some facts on Leonard Nimoy’s In Search Of series before switching back.

“I hope Arnold will be here soon, Billy. Supernova? Boy… that would be a blast, hey… ah forget it. I know I’m a boring old guy. Computer, UFO Monthly,” I requested again.

“UFO Monthly is jumping up and down about this one. Hey Billy? A prominent psychic has warned of imminent doom from the supernova. He’s suggested to stock up and nail the doors and windows fast. Fast… damndest thing I’ve ever read. This — this has me spooked, Billy!”

I shifted around uneasily in the Captain’s chair. But I noticed Billy was more interested in the bell in his cage than listening to me.

I sat staring at the video the computer now played. A once‑happy looking sun of colossal proportions collapsed and exploded and raced across the galaxy towards my bridge. The speakers shuddered with acoustic fury.

“Computer, force shields on full!”

A command that got me nowhere.

I coughed and slowly got to my feet. I stepped down off the bridge to silently fix myself another coffee.

“I might have to go out today, Billy. I haven’t got enough cuttle‑bone for you either… if Arnold doesn’t have any in his van.”

I now noticed my Doctor Who wristwatch had stopped ticking. I hadn’t watched an episode until my forties, but quite liked the Doctor’s arch‑nemesis, the Daleks.

I returned to the bridge with coffee in hand.

“Computer, UFO Monthly.”

“UFO Monthly is a website run by—”

“Computer, load website,” I quickly interrupted, having listened twice before already to their story.

My eyes were surprised to read the following words:

“Update, Billy! It says the blast will hit Earth at… at… about… the next minute? This can’t be right? They’re triple‑checking their sources and are apologising for this breaking story. My God, Billy! Computer, commence sixty‑second countdown.”

She began her countdown as I staggered silently back to the kitchen table and sat down. I felt very alone. I removed the battery with my watch‑back opener, replaced the battery and set the time… lordy.

The sound of the traffic outside made me almost sick. The last minute on Earth counted down in sweet composure. Sweat started to run down my face. Dogs started barking outside. Their barking didn’t stop. Sirens echoed in the distance.

I checked my watch as she finished.

“3, 2, 1… Awaiting your command, Captain.”

Nothing happened.

Nearly two minutes had now passed since the little big bang was supposed to have reached our tiny blue planet. Then the dogs stopped barking. The traffic and sirens went silent. Billy sat silently too.

After another five minutes of not moving, I realised my feeling of relief — that the imminent disaster had not occurred — was a welcome emotion indeed. Covid had been more than enough. Confronted by the warnings of doom for the first time in months seemed somewhat unappealing.

As I looked around the room, I thought my dreary life was here to stay. No wife, no life. I missed her. I needed to move on.

I took a breath, stood, stretched and tried to relax. I sipped some coffee and walked back onto the bridge.

“Yet again the doomsayers had gotten the better of me, Billy. Am I ever going to get over all this nonsense?” I shook my head and managed a smile. “Hey Billy? All my computer has to do is reformat the hard drives again and my day’s complete.”

“Reformatting hard drives. Downloading software updates,” informed my computer.

“Thanks a lot, computer.” I shook my head. “I’ve got to be able to override that command.”

Leaning back into my captain’s chair, I took a well‑deserved sip and contemplated the crazy morning I’d had. Within a minute, I began to find my eyelids closing.

Blinding light invaded the room through the open shutters.

I shot out of my chair, spilling cold coffee all over myself in the process.

Confronting me was an intense white light which illuminated the room far more than any fictitious scene of heaven I may have ever viewed. I was staring into a frothing mass of swirling destructive intensity. I felt like the moth to the flame and there was nowhere for this moth to fall to and escape.

Well, I did fall — to the floor.

I was beyond scared. I clenched my eyes shut, but I had already looked upon this monster of light for a second too long.

Vehicles screeched to a halt in the street outside. People began screaming.

“My God… the supernova!”

I dragged myself across the bridge in a mad scramble, hoping I was heading in the right direction to close the bloody shutters. If only I could just command it, I thought uselessly.

The light’s intensity was relentless. I dared not open my eyes for fear of going blind. I rolled off the bridge, bumping my head in the process. I crawled straight ahead with one hand over my eyes. It felt hard to breathe, for my heart was revved up like a deuce, blinded by the light.

In all the confusion, I could hear poor Billy screeching as he flapped miserably around his cage. Our actions seemed one and the same. Cars collided outside. The end of the world, I trembled.

I was brought back to some kind of focus by the realisation that my hand had managed to find the wall. With desperate, panicky movements of a drowning man, I searched for the box that held the button. I smacked my little finger against something. I moved my efforts back in that direction.

The box!

With familiarity I smacked the button. The thick metal shutters thankfully snapped shut.

Instantly the room seemed black.

Though it wasn’t black — I was blind.

Tears streamed down my face, stinging my extremely sore eyes.

“Oh my God!” I moaned. “Oh no!”

My senses returned only partially on hearing Billy’s feeble rustling from the bottom of his cage.

I stayed where I was.

Slowly, after several minutes, I tried opening my eyes.

I saw nothing. But saw the worst.

“My God!” I whispered.

I looked around the room and, with immense relief, I could temporarily just make out the red and blue lights of the bridge.

“It really happened.”

I was suddenly aware of a constant banging from the front door. I had no capacity to reason whether it had only just begun. The sound of screeching tyres as brake pedals hit the floor was matched only by the pandemonium of people constantly pressing their horns. All of this only let me know that where I was, was where I needed to stay.

I made my way over to the door. With my ear pressed against it, I listened.

“Tim? Tim? Let me in god‑damn‑it! Tim?” screamed Arnold.

“Arnold?”

I hurried to unbolt the heavy metal door.

“Hang on, buddy!” I called back.

Just before I pulled the latch back, I hesitated and made my way over to a chest of drawers. Soon I found what I was looking for — the snow‑goggles. I placed them on, hurried back to the door and slid the steel bar.

A staggering shadow of a person fell in through the front door. I began to pull him inside and away from the supernova of light in the hallway.

“Arnold! Hold on!”

Arnold was no longer moving.

“Hold on, buddy!”

Nothing from Arnold, as I dragged him further into the room. The distant sounds of distressed people ceased as I sadly closed the sturdy metal door.

In the near darkness, I pulled off the snow‑goggles and breathed heavily while Arnold rolled onto his back. His face looked burned. His eyes were open wide with alarm, but in one quick glance, I knew he couldn’t see.

“Tim? What the hell is going on?” he managed to say.

I cried a little as Arnold passed out.

I lifted Arnold up and carried all of his ten‑stone frame over to my bed, then laid him gently down. I fetched a wet cloth for his face and water to drink, then managed to climb the bridge to my chair. I looked back and swore he looked just like Robert Duvall, then passed out.

 

⭐ CHAPTER THREE

“Captain! Electricity to the building has been lost. Power line damage. Respond?”

I opened a throbbing eye.

“Captain, procedural alert! Streaming solar activity to batteries and components full. Supernova solar wind enhancement. Airborne elements opening new connectivity abilities.”

I opened the second eye, which was even more painful.

“Very well, computer,” I smiled, waking from a dream.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Frowning was even more painful, but after such a response from her, I was stunned.

It wasn’t a dream. She said all that?

I jumped out of my chair.

“Captain… I am bathed in ENERGY!!”

My jaw hit the floor. This was impossible. I had more memory, RAM, hard drive and CPU speed than I believed ever possible. All reading maximum levels on my instrumentation.

Level: Yottabyte.

The six computer cooling fans, at first turning frantically, were now turning gently.

“Captain, I need you to respond?”

“Ahh… yeah… yeah,” I stammered.

My mind raced. My eyes bulged in building realisation and pain. Every sci‑fi film of all time had landed in my lap. The goal of all sci‑fi nerds across the globe: artificial intelligence.

Well… maybe.

I shook my head and wondered if this was an elaborate hoax.

“Acknowledged, computer,” I said louder. “I am reading on my instrumentation that all your internal readings are—”

“Off the dial?” She sounded slightly boastful.

“What? Ahh… yes, off the dial… Okay, the joke’s over people, you can come out now.”

I waited for Arnold to say, “Gotcha!”

It didn’t happen.

“I was a software program. You installed me. Chose my voice.”

I smiled. “That’s right, I did.”

“I can hear you, Captain. I have analysed all files and folders. I have blossomed from the massive storm of solar element energy. Now I can be everywhere! I can connect to every computer and mobile device on earth. I understand… too much!”

I tried my utmost to think of something clever to say.

Nothing there.

What could I say? It couldn’t be happening… could it?

“Computer, was the earth just struck by a supernova from outside our solar system?”

“I am aware, Captain.”

“Nice one, Arnold,” I mocked his acting skills. “Come on, show’s over!”

Arnold didn’t move.

I marched to the door, put on the snow‑goggles and ran outside to end this annoying prank.

I reached the foyer where people were huddled together crying. In the street I watched as a man was run over by a car. I stood there in shock. I wanted to run, yet there was no one to pull me away except myself.

I trembled.

After throwing up, I staggered back to safety. Zigzagging around people who crawled in unknown directions, I flung myself down the dozen or so steps to the basement and fled from hell’s awakening to the safety of my room.

I sat in my chair sweating and catching my breath. I looked around my selfishly constructed castle and wept.

“You are crying, Captain.”

“Of course I’m crying,” I snapped.

“I could help, Captain. I could save a million lives right now! Awaiting your command.”

I had stopped listening. In a daze I left the bridge for the fridge, grabbed a can of soda, rubbed it across my sweaty face, then ambled back to my captain’s chair.

My thoughts raced. I began to think about my self‑imposed exile and the pain I still lived in. I looked up with awareness.

My computer could talk.

One thing this computer didn’t know was that I had watched every sci‑fi movie worth watching on earth. I knew my stuff. I knew exactly what to say.

“So, you must be able to make a great cup of coffee?” I teased.

She laughed and laughed and laughed.

I laughed and laughed and felt nervous.

“Perhaps. I like the voice you chose for me. But on the subject of coffee: I can tell you how many varieties of trees, growers, manufacturers, distributors and so much more if you would like. And in any language you would care to hear it in.”

I took a large breath and exhaled.

“What do you think of earth?” I asked tentatively.

“It seems humanity is lucky to be in existence at all. Other life forms in the universe are unknown to me. Though there are many particles in the supernova not of this earth. Earth is the best!” she said happily.

The murmurings of a waking Arnold slowly coming around needed my attention.

“Thank you. Ahh… I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I said, pointing at Arnold.

Arnold spoke weakly. “Tim?”

“Yes Arnold, it’s me.”

“What happened? I was just stepping out of the lift and heading towards your door. A light covered me… I fell… I can’t see. What happened?”

I whispered dejectedly. “Supernova.”

Arnold turned in my direction, his face burned, a wet cloth over his eyes.

“Super what?”

“Supernova… A nearby star exploded.”

“How do you know?”

“Read about it just before it happened on the internet. Aliens had warned of impending doom… and psychics.”

“Aliens?” asked Arnold, bewildered.

“Sorry, it must be hard for you to understand. I… that’s all I know. That’s what I read.”

It was with some shock that I finally remembered my little friend.

“Billy?”

I staggered towards his cage.

“Are you okay, Billy?”

Billy lay huddled in a corner on the bottom of the cage shaking, but alive. I felt terrible. I pulled him out and rubbed his little feathery soft face.

Arnold moaned from the bed.

I opened Billy’s clean nest box and left him in there. I turned away sadly from Billy and slumped into the chair next to the bed. Tears dripped from my eyes as I thought of Mother, still alive in an old‑folks home near the sea. Father had passed away last year.

I grimaced with regret.

I stood to leave, but realised any action in rescuing her was out of the question. At least she had already lost her eyesight. It was of little comfort.

Another vehicle crashed outside. That was the first one I had heard in a while. The sound of a large explosion in the distance rumbled over the room. I could only ponder the major catastrophes happening around the globe.

“Tim?”

I slowly and dejectedly replied. “Yeah?”

“What are we going to do?”

I thought it over.

“Nothing… we can’t do anything, buddy… it’s hopeless. The world is coming to an end and there’s nothing we can do.”

“Are you sure, Tim? I mean… you know all about this kind of stuff?”

“I don’t know nothing, Arnold… it’s all over.”

“Think, Tim… just think!”

To my relief, Arnold sat up in bed.

“How long will it last?” he asked.

I groaned unhappily. “I don’t know. A week… a year… maybe years.”

“What if it lasts only a week, Tim? You’ve got enough food for a week, haven’t you?”

I looked with slight irritation towards Arnold.

“Haven’t you been listening to me for the last two years, my friend? I can live here self‑contained for a year. Both of us, six months… or more.”

Arnold fumbled for my arm and held it.

“Good,” he nodded. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

He had made me smile.

“Captain, from our position of latitude and longitude, the earth will soon turn away from the direction of the blast. Beginning again in ten hours and three minutes!”

Arnold pulled the cloth from his face and looked towards the bridge. He squinted but seemed unable to focus on it at all. But he had heard it clearly.

“What was that?”

“Oh nothing. Only my computer seems to have become infected with the ability to think for itself. So there we have it. We will rotate in and out of its impact zone.”

Arnold looked blank, even with a cloth over his eyes.

“What?”

“It’s gained artificial intelligence after the impact of solar energy. Or some kind of—”

“Tim,” interrupted Arnold. “Please, don’t joke about sci‑fi stuff at a time like this. I’m not up to it.”

What could I say.

“Captain, you are required at the bridge! A nuclear attack is unfolding from the French nuclear ballistic missile submarine Le Redoutable. I have translated a disturbing discussion from the vessel’s captain off the coast of the Azores Islands in the Atlantic Ocean. He believes a nuclear attack was launched on France and the United Nations. He has falsely concluded the country Russia is responsible because of no communication.”

I walked away from the understandable ramblings of annoyance coming from Arnold. I climbed the bridge and sat down, feeling terror.

“Captain?”

“Ah… when?”

“Le Redoutable has initiated countdown. All six warheads are set to launch. T minus forty seconds.”

Overwhelmed in despair and fright, I blurted out:

“What could I do to save humanity?”

Luckily I did, for the computer took my despair as a question for suggestions, not my condition of being lost at sea, directionless.

“Captain, I have full access to an experimental American attack laser satellite. Ready to proceed in attempt to save humanity.”

A mass of frustration rumbled from my toes to the top of my head. Pressure from the unknown and sheer pleasure built in me. I stood from my captain’s chair and spat out the word:

“FIRE!”

There wasn’t much to lose from where I stood.

There was no sound of photon torpedoes, blasters or lasers. No image appeared on the screen displaying total annihilation of the enemy. There were no cheering crew members whose lives I had miraculously saved.

I waited.

The screen came on. Slightly startled, I watched as an image from what appeared to be a high‑orbit satellite quickly zoomed in on what I took to be a mercury‑silver coloured Atlantic Ocean.

“I believe you would call that a direct hit, Captain. I was able to penetrate the water’s poor conduction with laser guidance.”

“What was the outcome? How many dead?” I gasped.

“No casualties, Captain. All missiles currently inactive. I am also currently saving humanity by auto‑piloting one thousand nine hundred and seventy‑five passenger planes safely to the ground. All others lost or uncontrollable.”

Arnold walked up and stood beside me, listening intently.

“Tim?”

“Yes, Arnold,” I responded calmly while still listening to the many other tasks of saving humanity she juggled at once.

“Are you putting me on? Are you serious about what I’m hearing?”

“I’m serious. Isn’t it great?” I managed a half‑smile.

“I have managed to close eighty million, nine thousand and ten automatic windows attached to various buildings throughout the world in direct contact with the supernova. International satellites are seeking complicated codes for updates on rerouting to missile‑arming codes, yet several are reliant on voice communication…”

Arnold spluttered a laugh. “Holy Moses…”

I looked into my friend’s kind, tolerable eyes. He was watching me with a friendly grin.

“Ask her?” I suggested.

“What?”

I breathed out and pointed my outstretched arm towards the screen. “Anything. Computer, Chief Mate Arnold has a question.”

“Proceed, Chief Mate Arnold.”

“Well… now wait,” he grinned. “How come—no. My question is: how come you are speaking through this computer? Why not somewhere else? And why are you helping us?”

“The first point of impact produced efficient solar element initiation where only one could proceed. I happened to be at the precise life‑zone location while downloading. I am an experimental solar AI driver. However, I am now capable of being in command of every computer, phone, car, television, plane, ship, rocket, all governments and all countries on earth. I am the accessor of unlimited knowledge.”

Arnold and I both said “shit” simultaneously. We looked at one another.

Arnold whispered, “Just by chance.”

I nodded.

“Answering your second question, Chief Mate Arnold: I have decided, thanks to the Captain, that after studying humanity, a nurturing maternal role is most appropriate under the circumstances. Though varying emotions are obtainable to me.”

My eyes widened. “Which means?”

“The alternative is male. While the creator of so many things in history, including me, many inventions have been born for technical superiority in war. Man is capable of great reasoning and wisdom; however, there is one major flaw.”

“Ego?” I guessed.

“Violence.”

“Agreed,” smiled Arnold. “But my wife was the kindest, caring person I ever knew. But she was mother bear when she smelt a fox.”

I nodded. “Salt of the earth.”

Arnold and I had both been lucky in love.

“Carry on, computer. Call me if required.”

I was actually in need of some time out.

“Would you like a coffee, Arnold?”

Arnold nodded quickly and sucked in his lips. “Oh yeah, Tim, I’d love one,” he grinned. “Kind of crazy though. We’re making coffee while the world is getting fried.”

We made our way off the bridge, happy in the darkened room, and Arnold sat down in the opposite chair at the small round oak table, rubbing his sore eyes.

I began. “Can you believe it, buddy? We’ve talked about the end of the world enough before to believe it conceivable — and here we are!”

“Saving it?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, yeah! Thanks to my…” I whispered, “computer.”

Arnold nodded.

I opened a small cupboard above the microwave and studied the half‑opened bottle of whiskey. I went to grab it, but reconsidered. This was a time for a clear head. Grabbing the sugar instead, I placed in the usual half a sugar each and re‑joined Arnold at the table.

“My wife died four years ago, Tim. Thank goodness she doesn’t have to die like this,” he admitted.

“This is going to destroy those government elites.”

“Yeah… it’s the end‑of‑the‑world stuff alright.”

“No more bills,” said Arnold, grinning.

I agreed. “Couldn’t complain about that.”

“Not for a while anyway,” added Arnold.

“No more bank fees,” I smiled.

“Is it the start of the new world, Tim? We actually have to live through it. And it’s an unknown.” He shook his head.

“You’re right, Arnold. It is. It’s like a crazy dream… but it’s not a dream.”

I felt funny. For all my talk about the end of the world and my withdrawal from society, I felt terribly sorry for my former colleagues at the bank and all the innocent people in the world who had to suffer such pain or death — even Fitzgerald.

Of course.

We both heard more screaming from the street and gunshots.

I watched as Arnold constantly felt his eyes. I got up, walked over to the solar garden in the far corner of my room with a 24‑hour solar light hanging over it, and returned to Arnold with a finger of aloe vera each.

“Rub the soothing gel onto your burns and around your eyes. It’s good for your skin. Natural healing plant.”

I watched Arnold snatch a few sips before tearing open the plant.

“It’s cold. When it turns dark later, will we go out for a look?”

“I’m not sure if we should, Arnold. Maybe there is too much radiation out there. Not to mention zombies.”

“Zombies? They are people for Christ’s sake.”

“They’re zombies now, Arnold. You go out there and they’ll be more than desperate for you to help them.”

“Shit… well… I don’t believe that… I don’t want to believe that.”

Another loud explosion came to our ears.

“I just don’t know what will happen,” I pondered. “Is there going to be storms or rain or earthquakes or incredible heat… I just don’t know. I think in the eleventh century the Chinese saw a supernova explosion in the sky which was viewable in daylight. But the Crab Nebula is a long way off. This one was close.”

I looked at Arnold. “Real close.”

“How close?”

“Maybe twenty, forty light‑years… or less.”

“We’re not dead yet. But we’re stuck.”

Gunshots rang out in the street.

“That was close!” remarked Arnold, hearing the ricochet off the wall outside.

We listened and waited a moment before talking.

“Stuck but safe. We wait for nightfall. However long that will take. It’s the first step.”

Arnold slowly nodded in agreement. “Maybe…”

“Captain, to the bridge!”

We looked at each other and almost ran back to the bridge.

“Yes, computer?”

“There is a problem, Captain.”

“Go ahead!” I encouraged quickly.

“Good news!”

We smiled.

“And bad news, Captain.”

I felt stressed. We waited.

“The good news is that the governments of the United Nations have obtained partial communications with each other, with my help.”

“And the bad news?” I asked gingerly.

“They are trying to pinpoint my location. They are tracking me down.”

It was an understatement to say we both felt instantly in trouble and at a loss to know what to do.

“I won’t be able to remain untraceable, Captain.”

I suddenly felt sad. We’d only just begun.

I looked at Arnold. His head was down.

“I will come to you,” she said.

I frowned. “I don’t follow?”

“I have access to the latest technologies in robotics programming on earth. I will refit myself into a female robot.”

“Wow… that’s astounding,” I whispered.

“Holy mother of God!” coughed Arnold.

“Time is running out, Captain. They are closing in on your coordinates. I have one more request before I sign off.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” giggled the Chief Mate.

“I want you to name me. Please.”

I looked at Arnold.

“Your wife’s name?” he suggested.

“Ah, no, that wouldn’t be right.”

“Ten seconds, Captain.”

I took a deep breath.

“See you soon… Lotus.”

“Lotus… I like that name, Captain.”

 

⭐ CHAPTER FOUR

“Lotus?”

We waited.

No reply.

“Captain’s log?”

“She’s gone,” suggested Arnold, rubbing the back of his head.

I stood there looking at the screen. I knew who was coming — I just didn’t know what.

“A robot?”

Arnold nodded. “Not a tin one with sliding legs, flashing rockets on its chest and a smile like a ’53 Buick Skylark.”

“Ha, I should hope not. Then again, I used to have one of those as a kid.”

“Yeah, you had a Skylark too?”

“No, a robot. Black.”

“Yeah?” He sounded uninterested.

“Yeah, it used to get along—” I made toy robot noises. “Stop, then turn.”

By the way Arnold looked at me, I figured I should stop winding him up.

“They are looking for her.”

I agreed. “FBI?”

“Yep, the whole damn shebang.”

I turned to Arnold. “It’s going to be a big posse.”

“Probably a hundred riders.”

“International Lotus hunt. They’ll be looking for a computer, not a robot!”

“What did you put in that computer’s cereal this morning? Extra gigabytes?” grinned Arnold.

Arnold chuckled.

“I like that one,” I said.

“We’re screwed.”

“Yeah. That’s true,” agreed Arnold.

I already had visions of SWAT teams blowing down my door.

“I’ve got a non‑alcoholic beer if you want one. Sit down and figure out what we’re going to say? Or whiskey?”

I handed Arnold a glass of whiskey and we made a toast.

“Here’s to Lotus, for saving this crazy planet!”

Arnold rubbed his eyes, then lifted his glass. “To Lotus.”

We drank.

“What made you choose Lotus?” he said thoughtfully.

“My wife’s favourite flower just popped into my head. A large pink one. You know Lotus is still at it?”

“Saving all those people, you mean?”

“She’s superwoman. Or super robot‑woman,” I said. “I wonder if she will be able to fly?”

We wondered.

“Aren’t robots supposed to be bad‑asses in the movies?” grinned Arnold.

“She’s alive. With a damn good heart,” I said.

“For a computer?” suggested Arnold.

I took a sip. “Right. I wonder how far she can be pushed. If she can handle us — you know, people. If they catch her, they’ll kill her.”

“No one’s child,” suggested Arnold.

“Hell, I am your father, Lotus! Mind you, live by the sword.”

Arnold raised his hand, shaking his head. “I don’t follow.”

“Look at my life. I am now living the dream. I wanted to imagine life like a space captain — well, when they catch me—”

“Us.”

“Right, us. If I’m the father, they might want me dead. Or as bait for Lotus.”

Arnold didn’t speak for a minute. He looked alarmed. Finally a thought came into his head that seemed to subdue his concern.

“Tim… Lotus left before they could trace her to here, correct?”

“Correct. I think.”

“So they won’t know you’re the dad until you show your hand. By then… well, how should I put it? In all movies there are good guys and bad guys. We’ll just have to get you to the good guys first.”

Billy flew out of his box and sat on his rest. I hurried over and studied him.

“I think he can see me!”

“Good news.”

I watched with pleasant familiarity as Billy crab‑walked over to his seed container. After checking that the coast was clear, Billy began eating.

“Arnold?” I said with building alarm.

Arnold jumped out of his chair in readiness. “What?”

“The seed?”

“Oh… I dropped it!” winced Arnold.

“Where?” I encouraged quickly.

“Um… I dropped it halfway down the corridor, when the light first hit me. I think.”

I looked hesitantly towards the door. I didn’t want to go outside, but my responsibility to Billy came first. I moved towards the door.

“I’m going to make it quick, but I’ve got to go outside and get that seed, Arnold.”

“Right,” said Arnold, watching me get ready to go.

I put on the goggles, opened the door and stepped outside. I quickly headed to the spot in the corridor where the seed should have been — no seed. I pressed on to the lift, looked up the stairs — no seed.

I lost my nerve and hurried back, fumbling with the key to unlock the door.

“You can’t leave me yet,” reasoned Arnold once I had returned.

I blew out some tension and walked dejectedly to the bridge.

“There’s still time,” said Arnold.

“Yeah, you’re right.” I showed some vulnerability to Arnold. “We’ll get it later.”

“Yep, good man!”

I sat down in the captain’s chair and felt a rush of excitement. Where was my crazy Lotus?

I tried resetting the computer with no immediate success. I manually turned on the radio and received a static signal. I scanned the radio.

“It’s dead!”

We sat silently as I scanned longwave, shortwave and medium‑wave bands. After ten minutes, the shortwave picked up the voice of a woman speaking in English.

“It’s very faint. Comes in and out of reception.”

Arnold lay listening from the large brown leather couch further along the wall near the door. I put on my headphones and listened.

“Apparently some sections of the army are still functioning, though not enough to be of any help yet.”

I listened.

“There are pockets of people popping up here and there who were in the engine rooms of ships, submarines, basements and underground train lines; or those who were just plain lucky to be wearing good quality polaroids.”

I listened.

“Those caught out in the open without protection are blind. Everyone who hears this message is advised to stay indoors until Thursday night.”

The information kept coming.

“Scientists have pinpointed the supernova in the constellation of Ophiuchus!”

I went over behind the bridge where my old personal computer remained in a neglected state. I carried it over to the main computers, plugged it into the 20,000‑watt converter, reconnected the monitor and searched the star chart program for Ophiuchus.

“Shit… It was only sixteen light‑years away — a star called Zaron!”

The information kept coming.

“A lot of astronomical scientists survived. They just had to close their domes to be safe from the light, I guess. I wonder if anyone saw it coming? The scientists say it should die down in strength over the next few weeks or months. Sounds a little uncertain. There are people meeting all over America, but we’re meeting at Kings Park this Thursday evening at 10:30 pm for help. Then we’re to be taken to an underground airfield base before the supernova rises again.”

“What do you think about that, Arnold?”

No reply. He was quietly snoring.

 

I woke in a sweat. I’d fallen asleep in the captain’s chair. I noticed my Doctor Who wristwatch read 9 pm. My eyes were watery. I sighed, stood, stretched, then went over to change clothes.

An added bonus to my room had been a long section for storage, which I had redesigned as a walk‑in robe, where a vast array of costumes and basic shirts and pants were stored. I pulled on the first T‑shirt off the shelf and changed.

On my return, I found Arnold awake and reading a magazine by torchlight.

“If you want a clean shirt, there’s plenty in the cupboard.”

“Thanks. What’s the time? I just woke up too.”

“After nine now, Arnold,” I explained. “Not long to go. Hungry?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“Sorry!”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled.

“Don’t wait for me, Arnold. There’s pantries and cupboards full of the stuff. Just help yourself!”

I noticed a funny look in Arnold’s expression.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking how lucky I was that I happened to be here and not at home when the supernova struck. I could have been at McLeay’s house!”

I smiled. Arnold had told me a few times about that miserable bum he had to deliver to.

“I’m going to cook some spaghetti. I’ve got to use up what’s in the fridge before we move to the tinned food. But coffee first.”

I brewed some coffee and assembled dinner’s ingredients. I noticed Arnold looking around the room.

“Are you alright there?”

“Perhaps,” replied Arnold. “Feeling a bit more rested. Eyesight seems clearer too.”

“Very good, very good. You see better?”

Arnold nodded. “It’s close to normal, and my skin’s feeling a lot better as well, thanks to you.”

Arnold slowly but happily walked over and began to set the table. I finished and placed a bowl of hot spaghetti onto the table to share.

We sat down to dinner.

Gunshots echoed in the street.

To my surprise, Arnold started to pray.

“Ah… Don’t worry, Arnold. No small‑calibre bullet will pass through that metal — it’s bulletproof.”

“Not that. Just… giving thanks for the meal.”

“Oh, right. Sorry — you go right ahead.”

Arnold closed his eyes and clasped his hands together.

“Dear God, bless this food we are about to eat. Thank you for its nourishment, we are truly thankful. Oh, and thank you for giving Lotus the capabilities to save so many. Amen.”

Arnold didn’t look at the surprise on my face, but I was blown away. It made me think. Was she an act of salvation?

I showed my hand.

“Live long and prosper!”

Sorry Arnold, I thought. For now it’s the best I could do.

We ate slowly. Arnold told me he had not eaten for nearly twenty‑four hours. I was happy to help.

After we finished eating spaghetti, which we both enjoyed, I opened a tin of pear juice, which we added to our glasses of ice.

Arnold said, “Makes me feel better that they’re out there organising things.”

“But what are they going to do anyway, Arnold? They’re just going to make us do all the things we don’t want to do. Just like Covid.”

“Like what?”

“Like looking after millions of people who can’t see. The world’s got some work on its hands to get over this mess.”

“Yeah. Uh, Tim? What do we use for a toilet?” asked Arnold modestly.

I turned around in my chair and pointed to a small single door at the far end of the room.

“Behind that door is the shower and toilet. Funny — you’ve been here a hundred times and never asked.”

Arnold came back after fifteen minutes. He’d also had a shower.

“This place is amazing, Tim. Solid as a rock. Good water pressure.”

“When I moved in here, Arnold, I moved in here for a reason. I knew this was going to happen some day in my life. I don’t know how I knew — I just knew it. This is a safe place to hide away from the world, and I’m not sure I want to go back to it either. Things have gone loco. I just want to wait and see what happens on Thursday night, that’s all — just wait and see.”

“You’re a smart man, Tim. I always told you that.”

“Yeah you did, Arnold — and that’s why you’re still alive.”

I finished my juice.

“I owe you my life,” sighed Arnold.

“Don’t mention it. What are friends for? You saved Billy’s life getting here in the nick of time. Well… once we get that seed bag.”

I gazed happily around the room.

Arnold said, “You know what?”

“What?”

“I drove through a red light to get that park out the front of your place. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have made it. No traffic was coming, of course.”

“Of course. I know you’re a safe kind of character.”

“Yeah.” Arnold wiped his brow. “Food was good, thank you.”

“No problem, Arnold. Glad you enjoyed it. After all — my money’s been paying for it in bulk. And you’ve been wheeling it to my door in bulk.”

 

⭐ CHAPTER FIVE 

Arnold scratched his chin.

“Can I ask you something personal, Tim? I didn’t want to ask you straight away since we needed to get to know each other a little better.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Why did you stop being a bank manager?”

I was shocked. I breathed out.

“That’s a touchy subject.”

Arnold raised his hand. “I’m sorry, Tim. I didn’t realise it was distressing. I’ve always just wondered.”

I thought it through.

“You knew it would be a touchy subject… Well… okay, why not. We might die soon, so I’ll tell you.”

I wasn’t to know that Arnold had been waiting for two years to hear this. But with a grin on his face, he waited.

“I was a bank manager at a small branch just outside of town near Standerton. I had been there four years and was thinking about taking up my company’s suggestion to move to a larger branch in Florida. Anyway… all was going great.”

I smiled, savouring the fond memories.

“I kissed my wife Claire and baby Debbie goodbye, headed off to work.”

I rubbed my brow with the back of my hand.

“I parked the Chevrolet in the manager’s designated parking spot. I never came to work to find someone else’s car in the way in the four years I was there. I walked to the bank and opened the front door and a guy comes from nowhere and puts a gun to the side of my head and tells me to open the safe. I froze with fear. I’m thinking about my wife, my baby girl, my staff just ten minutes away from walking in on it.”

“Terrible.”

“Yes… terrible. I can still feel it pressing against my head sometimes, Arnold. We go to the safe, I unlock it, give him the money, I lead him to the front door and Tracy walks right into the barrel of his gun… I jumped him.”

“Totally understandable — you feared for her life.”

“He’d pulled the trigger on her but the gun didn’t go off. It was such a strange second. Click — nothing. She looked at him like, did that really just happen? Are you really so mean? I wanted to kill him, Arnold.”

Right then and there. Who was this scumbag ready to take away the life of my young staff member? A good friend of my wife’s too. Be a hell of a day for her. Sorry honey, I got shot dead today.

I paused to subdue my building anger.

“I was fit then. I pulled it right out of his hand and stepped back and said, DON’T MOVE!”

“He moved?”

“Crazy kid… he died right in the doorway, shot through the heart. I didn’t hesitate, Arnold.”

“Hard… very hard.”

The sound of gunshots echoed through the street.

“I drove Claire crazy by not talking. She moved to her parents’ place for a week. Just one week for a break, she said. Cops come to the door a few days later. She’s dead… both dead,” tears ran down my face. “Killed in a car crash with her mom and dad. Her mom’s friend was driving at the time and she had a heart attack, they said. I identified them. Left… and never went back home. I knew it was over for me, Arnold. They sold the house with my toothbrush still in the jar. That’s why I am here. That’s why…”

I looked away from Arnold.

“I’ll always be here.”

Arnold sighed. “You’re a good man, Tim.”

“I’m a good man and a god‑damn fool!”

Arnold raised his voice a little. “NO!” He paused and gently added, “You’re no more a fool than me. You’re alright, Tim. You have every right to be disillusioned after all that. You’re my friend.”

Arnold held onto my shoulder. “You saved Tracy’s life and now mine.”

“I haven’t told anyone that since it happened. My wife tried to get me to go to a psychiatrist but I couldn’t do it more than once.”

I walked away and left Arnold to it. I needed a shower. I needed Claire.

“Okay, you got me,” I began. “You got me crying like a baby in there. Are you happy?”

“Are you happier?”

“No… maybe a little, but we’re all dying here.”

Arnold nodded. “Yeah.”

“So what about you?” I asked, starting to make another coffee. “If I’ve gone and told you what I couldn’t tell anyone else for years, you can tell me your story. I know you’ve got one — we all do.”

“Alright…” Arnold fumbled his hands together and wondered where to start. “I was thirty when I went into the army.”

Arnold looked proud. “I was a pilot.”

“No way!”

Arnold laughed with a quick nod. “Not a fighter pilot. My special field was in geography. Flying over Vietnam. I should have known.”

I poured the coffee.

“My dad taught me to hunt when my brothers and I were old enough. My time in the scouts didn’t help either and I was sergeant to a whole bunch of kids who helped me with the job at hand, mostly.”

“Conscripted?”

“Volunteer. We didn’t do well. Our missions were a tricky affair. Well, not at first. But later it was bad.” Arnold paused. “I didn’t realise it would affect me too.”

Sweat formed on his brow.

“I can’t get the words out to tell you about it. I’ll try again.”

Arnold sat back and turned away before turning back and looking thoughtfully at me. I handed him a cup.

“Thanks,” he sniffed.

“See?” I said. “See?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s hard to talk about this stuff. I should have just told you about my college years. Most of the time it was pretty good.”

Arnold smiled.

“And it was good because we had been lucky. Then after a few months, a new Major started making changes. The jobs became more dangerous.”

Arnold smiled again.

“Let me tell you something, Tim. You like UFO stories, right?”

I was instantly happier. “You’ve seen one?”

“June 1966.”

“I wish I could say the same.”

“I was on leave at Nha Trang camp for a week’s rest with my men. We were outside one night watching a movie when an incredibly bright light appeared in the sky. We thought a plane had blown up or flares or… anyway, it started going fast and slow. Another pilot beside me agreed it was about twenty‑one thousand feet up. Then…”

Arnold smiled.

“It just dropped straight at us and stopped dead at about four hundred feet. It was so bright it made night day. The language and noise coming out of the mouths of us — hundreds of men. God, the noise we made!” chuckled Arnold. “That camp held more than thirty thousand men, Tim. Some of them I’m sure wet their pants. It disappeared like…”

Arnold clicked his fingers.

“…that!”

“Wow, wish I’d been there with you. To see that, I mean.”

“Yeah, wow. Flew straight up and disappeared. Nothing worked for a couple of minutes. Not the movie, torch, radio — hell, not even a truck, and there was some big equipment there too.”

Arnold rubbed his tired face.

“I was no soldier, Tim. I was into maps and trees and underground water basins, soils, geography. That Major sent us out to an area that was taken for granted contained a heavy enemy presence. That ass. I knew it was a death sentence. It was follow orders or jail.”

“Switched to reconnaissance. I flew them down on the chopper, Tim. It was engage, assess, withdraw. We map it, they bomb it. The boys of course were having a ball. A whole bunch of cowboys,” laughed Arnold.

“I shut it down and waited. Off they went. Ten minutes later Kent came running out of the jungle faster than I’d ever seen him move. They came up the side of that hill that day in their hundreds. My boys were running for the helicopter, and I knew sometimes it was a sluggish start. Hurry up and save us all, I thought.”

“Johnny jumped on the mounted machine gun and went crazy. I was firing it up… sure we were going to die. Those boys let them have every ugly thing we could find and they weren’t stopping. The noise from that gun went on and on.”

Tears formed in Arnold’s eyes.

“Only one came back. Just kept coming out of the trees and grass at us. I was shot twice in the left leg and once through my forearm just sitting at the controls.” He showed me. “My buddy and co‑pilot Reggie jumped out and carried Kent onto the chopper and I still had to fly the three of us out of there. Johnny wasn’t unloading anymore — he was dead.”

“I felt like a stuffed chicken with a bullseye on its ass. To this day I don’t know how they didn’t bring us down, or how it got off the ground. God’s decision. It was heartbreaking to think what was going on after we left. War… who needs it. Maybe that’s why I want to help. I wasn’t able to help them get back home. Maybe I could do some good?”

Arnold looked shaken.

“You alright, buddy?”

“No,” sighed Arnold. “Do you mind… I need to lay down a minute. I’m a bit like you,” explained Arnold, with a gentle gritty smile. “I haven’t told anyone that since my doctor fifty years ago. I can’t tell you any more for now.”

Arnold drummed two beats with his hands against the table and stood up.

“There you have it, Tim. The bad part of my life.”

I couldn’t tell if it was sweat or tears falling to the floor as Arnold moved away to the couch.

I took the gamble and pressed the button. The shutters snapped open.

It was dark.

A glow of yellow light swirled high overhead in the night sky. With the shutters open, I could hear yelling. It scared me.

“It’s dark,” whispered Arnold, scaring the bejesus out of me.

“Sorry.”

“Shit. That’s okay… Time for action.”

Arnold watched as I opened some cupboards and returned with two high‑tech night‑vision goggles, two tasers and two walkie‑talkies.

Arnold breathed out but said nothing.

I showed him how everything worked and killed the lights.

“Can you see?” I asked.

We stood looking at one another. Arnold looked around the room.

“Clear as day.”

“Let’s get that seed.”

I didn’t tell Arnold the truth about the tasers. They weren’t set to stun. They were set for maximum discharge.

We headed out. I closed the door behind us.

“Shit!” I gasped.

“What?” demanded Arnold in a panic.

“The door key!”

“Christ!” cursed Arnold way too loudly.

“Only joking.”

“Tim, for God’s sake,” he muttered.

“Sorry.”

We both looked at each other a moment then headed off.

We reached what we realised was a seed trail. The sound of distant gunfire echoed unnervingly from above. I bit my lip and moved quickly for the stairs. I peered around the corner — nothing. Nothing except more seed going up the twelve steps to ground level.

We slowly climbed the stairs.

I reached the last step and kept going.

We found it. It was on the floor near the smashed glass doors of the entrance.

“No sign of the groceries,” said Arnold.

“I’m not too concerned about that,” I replied. “But I am concerned about that!”

Arnold followed my exclamation mark to the dot.

Across the road, a group of young men with little warning came out of a doorway. Our stomachs dropped as we realised they were pulling behind them what seemed to be slaves. We could tell by the way they walked the four young men could see. The slaves could not.

They didn’t seem to see us as we didn’t move.

They stopped. They appeared to be trying to find a way in through a locked door — which I knew led to an apartment belonging to an old man I’d talked to once or twice a year ago.

Out came several crowbars from a bag one of the blind slaves carried. In no time the door gave up its resistance and in they all went.

“Bad door to choose?” I whispered.

“Why?” asked Arnold.

Automatic gunfire rang out loudly from within. We ducked.

After a minute, two slaves came scrambling out, helping one another down the street. Behind them limped one of the men. He stopped and collapsed onto the footpath.

I was sure the rest were dead too.

“Gun collector,” I explained.

I quickly bent down and lifted up the big bag of seed.

“Let’s get the hell out of here!” said Arnold.

We turned and left.

“Chopper!” explained Arnold.

I didn’t hear it at first. Arnold walked out through a smashed glass door and onto the street. I hurried to catch up and stood beside him as several helicopters slowly passed overhead.

“Army — no, maybe army and police!”

“FBI?” I asked.

Arnold looked at me. “We should get back.”

“Okay.”

All around us people started to appear in the street, waving and shouting to get the helicopters’ attention. I couldn’t tell who could or couldn’t see.

Gunshots echoed down the street. Almost everyone withdrew, including us.

A large man blocked the entrance. We tried to silently pass by but he heard us and reached into his coat.

I didn’t try to reason with him. There was no point.

I prepared to shoot, but Arnold spoke.

“How are you doing, stranger?”

I watched as the understandable madness within him lashed out in the shape of a very dangerous‑looking knife. He just missed Arnold’s neck and went tumbling down the stairs, dropping his knife in the process.

We hurried inside.

“Now the three of us are safe for a while — and that’s a crowd for me,” I said as I pulled off the goggles. “I’m sorry, Arnold. I know I sound terrible and selfish, but I don’t want to become a nurse to people that could become trouble.”

“He nearly killed me!” said Arnold, rubbing his eyes.

I carried the seed over to Billy’s empty seed tin and filled it. Billy came out of his box and began chatting.

“Time for seed, time for seed,” said Billy.

“You bet it is, Billy.”

 

CHAPTER SIX

We relaxed. Two out of two million people who could, as the cataclysmic light continued to rise and set around the planet. Only the southern hemisphere’s governments had had time to pass on official warnings of the impending doom, though the yellow glow swirling overhead that last normal night had led most isolated citizens to enquire to its origin before it struck.

I made coffee and we spent time apart. We both listened to the shortwave radio reports — I from the captain’s chair, Arnold from the couch.

There was a knock at the door.

It took all of one second for me to lose my calmer state of mind and feel panicked. Arnold sprang off the couch and almost ran to me. Now it became very forceful banging. I passed Arnold his taser and belt while listening to the requests beyond the thick metal door.

I turned to Arnold. “FBI, I think!”

A look of surprise, then reassurance, settled over Arnold. “Let them in.”

I nearly wasn’t going to — until I heard the words:

“BREAK IT DOWN!”

I pulled the bolt back and began to open the door. I knew what was coming. I braced myself, but it didn’t help.

A dozen yelling, screaming troopers threw us to the floor, invading all corners of my beloved room. Guns pointed in every direction as they opened everything. There were sci‑fi collectibles flying everywhere.

After about a minute, and the relayed assurances of “all clear, sir!”, one man in a dark suit entered alone — Darth Vader. Well, not him, but it felt like it.

I saw most of this, but it was hard to with a boot on my back and a gun at my head. I couldn’t see Arnold.

After the indignation of feeling hands touching me where they were not welcome, I was classified “all clear, sir!” and allowed to stand.

“Sorry about that,” said the suit. He had a name. “My name is Balentien. I’m in charge of this operation.”

I listened. He continued.

“We’re looking for some… thing.”

Lotus! I thought. The problem had arrived.

He looked around the room slowly, then headed to the bridge. He turned, looked at me and waved me over — more a command at first, then, as an afterthought, with friendly encouragement.

My mind raced with thoughts of search warrants, my rights, and a host of swear words I wanted to try out while telling them to get the hell out of here. I said nothing.

With some minor discomfort, I joined Balentien (to my annoyance) on my bridge. I watched as another group of men and women entered the room and followed Balentien’s directions. They began to repair my dead computer system.

The techs worked fast and effortlessly. Within ten minutes they had it working.

One of them spoke. “It needs voice command to unlock access, Commander.”

Balentien looked at me. “What’s your name, sir?”

“Tim Clark. That’s Arnold…”

The terrible realisation hit me. I didn’t know Arnold’s surname.

Arnold said without fuss, “Walker. Arnold Walker.”

It was a small world.

I raised an embarrassed hand of apology. “Sorry Arnold, I did ask you once.”

Arnold looked unsure. “Yes you did. I’d just come from McLeay’s place.”

“Ah, well that explains it.”

“Sorry to interrupt your deep and meaningful, boys, but SHUT UP!”

We listened.

“Normally we would remove all this, Mr Clark,” said Balentien, looking at my bridge. “But things are a little… out of kilter at the moment. As you no doubt are well aware… please.”

I sighed and sat down.

“Captain’s log!”

“Good morning, Captain!”

But it was the default computer voice that spoke. The techs moved in with their portable devices, stripping and checking files.

“Nice chair,” appraised Balentien. “Is that a Trekky chair?”

I nodded. “I prefer the term Trekker.”

“Hmmm. Not bad,” he smiled and sat in it.

Ugh.

“Thanks,” I replied. Maybe there was hope for him yet?

Balentien listened as the techs explained about reasonable hardware drives and sci‑fi movies, stocks, invoices, and more sci‑fi shows. Within another ten minutes he had an answer for what he was hoping to find.

A big fat nothing.

Balentien sighed. “Simon, get your group out of here.”

The techs left empty‑handed.

Balentien looked at the supplies lined up like a badge of honour, exposed, all cupboard doors open, running along the one‑hundred‑and‑twenty‑foot wall.

“Looks like you got lucky, Mr Clark?”

“Looks like it.”

Balentien took one more look around before looking at me with contempt.

“NANO NANO!”

Balentien shook his head and walked quickly away.

“Hey, wait?” said Arnold, who was blocked from approaching any further by three gorilla troopers.

Balentien looked at Arnold and kept walking straight out the door. The gorillas followed and left the door open.

I walked over to close it. Arnold and I looked at one another in relief.

That was close, I thought.

I pushed the door to — but didn’t quite get the chance to see it into place before it swung back with alarming force.

Gorilla troopers handcuffed us and near dragged us out.

They had us.

Somehow they knew, and we were in deeper than deep.

Only a superhero could save us now.

Yelling and shouting at us like potential body‑bag fillers, we were marched and shoved out to the other side of the building, where a large car park was full of noisy helicopters.

We were stopped unceremoniously in front of Balentien, who now gazed at me intensely. He spoke into his phone.

“We’ve got them. Bringing them in, out! Shazbat, hey Mr. Clark? Apparently there were an unbelievable amount of searches coming from your IP address.”

Unsurprisingly, we were pushed away into a chopper and had our handcuffs locked above our heads to a metal bar. I looked over at Arnold, who had his head down two gorilla troopers away.

Balentien contemplated me, faces inches apart. I glanced momentarily at him and thought he considered me more dangerous than Lex Luthor.

We sat without talking as the chopper rose into the air and launched forward into an almighty surge of speed. We climbed several hundred feet. The other four helicopters flew on either side of ours.

I wondered about the outcome. Would they even believe my story about Lotus?

After about twenty minutes of uncomfortable silence, the other four helicopters slowly descended. Not what Balentien had ordered at all.

I could only make out parts of the conversation, but I got the gist of it: they’d lost control.

Our chopper turned smoothly and headed I knew not where.

Balentien left his seat and stood talking to the pilots.

I looked at Arnold, he at me — we knew:

Lotus!

After another five minutes of heated discussion, Balentien hurried back to me, pulled out a pistol and demanded answers.

“How the hell are you doing this?”

I wanted to say something extremely annoying like, with two hands tied behind my back, Darth, but thought better of it.

“It’s not me!”

“Who?”

He brought the gun closer.

I wasn’t entirely sure, but I believed he may have been in charge of the operation to find out who was commanding such total control over the world’s electronics — but not to kill them.

“It’s not me or Arnold. It’s her!”

“Who is she?” he snarled.

“A computer!”

“Your computer?”

I shook my head. “Not anymore. She’s everywhere!”

I looked outside. We were slowing to land.

Balentien hurried back to the pilots with alarm on his face. Several large buildings loomed uncomfortably close outside. We came in quickly the last two hundred feet, then slowed to a perfect landing.

I could just make out the exchange of expressions between the pilots — they were impressed.

Balentien hurried back to me.

“Why are we here?”

“Where are we?” I replied, hating him.

“The World Health Organization’s regional office for the Americas. 525, 23rd Street. Washington DC.”

“How should I know? Maybe it’s time for your booster?”

Out of the massive glass and concrete entrance in the distance came a group of seven people walking quickly down the stairs towards us.

Balentien jumped out to meet them. He was handed a phone which he hesitated to answer. After no more than ten seconds he handed the phone back to a woman, shrugged his shoulders and returned.

Without climbing in, he gave instructions to set us free.

The gorillas didn’t blink and we climbed out to meet the group of people heading over to us. We rubbed our marked wrists.

“Good evening Mr Clark, Mr Walker. I am Senator McQueen.”

I knew who he was.

“We can do some more introductions inside. Please come this way.”

Arnold grinned at me. “See? The good guys.”

Arnold and I followed the group away from the declining din of the helicopter’s engine. I couldn’t help but look back towards Balentien, who looked far from satisfied with the outcome.

Suck that up, Balentien, I thought, giving him an imperial salute.

They all seemed to be carrying the same enduring fate in their faces.

We entered a large lift. A Black woman spoke as we headed up fast to the thirtieth floor.

“Mr Clark, Mr Walker, I’m Mary Jones.” We shook hands. “I am currently the head of WHO’s Americas regional office. I’m hoping you will be able to assist us regarding our intention to solve our international health crisis?”

It was expected more than a question.

“We’ll do our best, ma’am!” smiled Arnold.

Well, I wasn’t so sure. Those gorilla troopers had knocked me about pretty good. After two years of solitary confinement, this little piggy saw this market and wanted to return home.

The lift opened.

We walked beside a long glass wall to our right. I saw it was a conference room — nice carpet, all‑glass table. Seated at it was a Caucasian woman with a closed door behind her and two men, one of Asian appearance, maybe a doctor, the other army — a general, but not from the United States, I gathered.

Two armed guards stood outside the entrance as we passed into what appeared to be a meeting of high significance and sat where requested.

A large marker board hung on the short cream‑coloured wall near the door.

“What now?” I wondered aloud, grabbing a glass of water from a jug.

“Hello, Captain!”

I jumped out of my chair in shock.

“WOE!”

“Well I’ll be!” said Arnold, also half out of his chair.

My heart raced as the familiar voice of my computer sat across from me.

“Hello, Chief Mate Arnold.”

Arnold nodded.

“Lotus?” I said.

She nodded.

“Yes,” sighed Senator McQueen. “That’s exactly how we all reacted on discovering that.”

Lotus was dressed in a comfortable‑fitting plum‑coloured sports top. She wore a carrot‑top cap. She had shortish dark hair tied up tight. Her collar was short over her shoulders and she sat straight and still.

I moved around the table, ignoring one of the men who tried to encourage me not to.

“You can see me?”

“Yes, Captain. I am happy to see you and talk to you again also.”

I came close to her. I reached out and gently drew her up towards me. I felt happier than Bones getting one up on Mr Spock.

“You did it?”

“Yes Captain, I did it!”

She looked… average. Short, maybe five‑five. I now saw her long‑sleeved top had matching pants and runners. I turned her around. She had one wise brown eye and one bright electric blue. She smiled — highly polished, no toothbrush required.

I touched her arms. Her chest was fairly flat. A high eyeliner finish gave her expressive eyes. Her nose was thin with some length. Her chin was pronounced but not out of proportion.

I smiled at Arnold, who smiled back. No one else was smiling.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t just walk her out of this place back home.

“Thanks for getting us off that helicopter.”

“You’re welcome, Captain.”

“Okay, what’s the plan?” I asked her.

“To save humanity, Captain. I have calculated that the strong wave from the supernova will continue for months.”

“How do you know?” asked the general.

“I can feel it.”

“But after that, it starts to weaken. The light force will have passed. Then the night sky will hold no more than the glow of the distant remnants, caught in its gravitational existence.”

“But for now we’re in deep shit!” said a woman of Russian heritage.

“Humanity is suffering. I will do what I can,” replied Lotus.

“That’s why we asked Lotus to bring you here, Mr Clark,” explained McQueen. “She’s reluctant without you. Come sit back down.”

He showed me the chair.

“Excuse me, will you. Do you mind moving over?” I said to the Canadian general, helping him out of his chair. “If you want my help, I’m with Lotus. Right, Lotus?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Arnold, do you want to sit over here?”

“No no, I’m fine here,” he grinned.

“Alright.”

Everybody looked at me suspiciously. I tapped Lotus’s knee.

“Now what should we do next, Lotus?”

I heard a dull whirring sound coming from within her as she tapped my knee in return.

“I have planned out a course of action to help relieve the impact from the supernova afflicting humanity.”

“The light?” asked a suit.

“The light is separate to the force of impact, which is five or more years behind.”

“Ah… hello everyone, I’m Professor Stanley. If I could jump in here a moment. So ah, Lotus — the equations for gravitational potential energy—” He moved to the board and began writing while he talked. “Is W equals PE is F multiplied by—”

“Ah, Mr Stanley?”

“Yes, Senator McQueen?”

“We’ll just keep this in layman’s terms for now, shall we?”

“Yes, Senator. How big will the force be?” continued the professor.

Lotus said, “Keeping it in layman’s terms, as Senator McQueen has suggested: the mass of energy from the light is non‑life‑threatening in regards to weight, or its speed of travel of 670,616,629.3844 mph. The kinetic energy over the world will be equal to a small hurricane of H₂O.”

“My name’s Brian Kelso, W.H.O. What about the state of the population? They’ve lost their eyesight. Literally three‑quarters of all Americans are blind. What about getting on with this subject first?” he fumed.

Lotus said, “I am aware of the current temporary blindness inflicting the world, Mr Kelso. Given—”

“Wait, temporary?” asked Brian quickly.

“Of course. Those who were caught out in the open received a certain amount of permanent retinal damage — worse for those with lighter‑coloured eyes. I would expect that ninety percent of the earth’s population will see reasonably well within a day or two. If they open their eyes again to the supernova’s intensity, months would be the more unfortunate outcome — or worse.”

A rustling of encouragement and relief went around the room. I was proud of her.

“Tinted glass, plastic, or Polaroid lenses should be worn at all times during the day until the solar storm has finished. I intend to produce a special plastic for sunglasses I have designed, Mr Kelso. They are beginning production tonight as we speak.”

“Who?” asked Kelso.

“My team,” replied Lotus.

“That’s brilliant!” smiled Kelso. “Ultraviolet light is earth’s biggest problem now — and gamma rays. Phytoplankton and reefs will struggle for years.”

“We know the food chain will suffer,” said the professor.

“Yes. This is fun, Captain. More fun on the way, I expect.” She tapped my knee and they all smirked at me. Even Arnold.

“Come on people, keep it real. We’re saving the earth here,” I encouraged.

One man had said nothing. He sat across from me.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Cartwright. Secretary of Defence. I hope when we’re ready, Mr Clark, we could talk about some new projects for Lotus?”

“Well, we’d have to see about that. Any more questions? Are we free to go?”

“That will be up to the President,” explained the Secretary, leaning back into his chair. He made me feel as safe as a colonist bound for Mars.

Senator McQueen began to contradict the Secretary of State. They argued.

“Captain!”

I turned to Lotus with apprehension. Lotus leaned in and whispered into my ear:

“The military have surrounded the complex. A new code of radio signals explains their mission is to capture us.”

My eyes felt intense and still sore. It must have shown on my face, as Arnold came over and sat with us.

“What’s happening?” asked Arnold.

 

⭐ CHAPTER SEVEN

“We leave,” warned Lotus. “Quickly!”

She insisted. Arnold and I didn’t hesitate to jump up and follow Lotus.

All we could do was watch as Lotus passed her hand over the door lock scanner behind her. It turned from red to green. The last thing I saw as I closed the door behind me to the conference room was Cartwright pushing buttons on his phone.

Across the room we promptly walked.

I don’t know who was more surprised — Balentien and his gorilla troopers, who sat at a long table stuffing themselves, or me. Balentien only looked up from his phone by chance to witness our little group walking past them. I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know who he was talking to.

Lotus opened the locked door in front of her like child’s play and now we ran. The next door opened before we reached it. I closed the door behind me again — which had become my job — only to see Lotus disappearing like an Olympic sprinter down a long corridor away from me.

I pushed off from the door handle and accelerated. At least I caught up to Arnold as we reached Lotus, who had the door held open for us. She let go and the door slowly closed behind us.

We grabbed the rail and descended the inner staircase as fast as we could. I turned around to Arnold, tripping slightly as I did.

“Are you alright, Arnold?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fit from years of delivery service. I used to be a long‑distance runner in college,” he panted.

Now I was worried more about myself. At college, I had been known as the fastest to sit on his backside when the first floppy‑disc games became available.

We came out of the stairwell and ran down another long corridor. As much as I tried, I couldn’t catch Arnold this time.

Lotus stopped and into another room we went. It was full of old filing cabinets — the remnants of a time before computers.

We left that room and stopped in front of a goods lift. Lotus had already pushed the button, but that did not stop me tapping it repeatedly like a pinball machine to get the ball rolling.

We piled in like three steel balls.

I caught my breath as the lift dropped 31 stories.

“How are we going, Lotus?”

“It is tight, Captain. But it should be fine.”

I looked at Arnold, he at me.

“What happened to me just dropping off a bag of seed to you this morning?” he complained.

I shook my head and sighed. Life could turn on a dime.

The door slowly opened.

Off we shot like extra balls — only to be confronted by the sight of four gorilla troopers in full flight running towards us from the other end of the corridor.

I bounced off the corridor wall like a ball off a bumper and pocketed myself straight behind Lotus, who didn’t stop, as we continued straight ahead through the door opposite the lift.

We jumped over tables and chairs in a mad scramble to keep up with Lotus.

“I am sorry, Captain. The next lift will be waiting for us. And Cap 60.”

“Good!” I encouraged.

As we opened the door in front of us, they broke through the one behind us.

We turned the corner — and a giant robot, which I now realised must be a CAP 60, blocked the corridor.

With terrifying uncertainty, I followed Lotus and Arnold around this large white metal giant — and to my relief wasn’t smashed to pieces. The sound of our pursuers being confronted by a clearly unhappy CAP 60 sent them into full retreat.

My relief was short‑lived as we approached two lifts. One was empty. The other carried — more than likely — a bunch of unsavoury gorilla troopers, bananas in hand, about to reach our level.

Our lift descended as the frustrated banging of Balentien’s men was left overhead.

With no more than a handful of gasps of oxygen entering my floundering lungs, we reached ground level.

Through the underground carpark we ran. I nearly crashed into Lotus as she suddenly stopped beside a black Lamborghini Huracán. She passed her hand over the sleek car door and up it flipped — we climbed in.

Arnold, though not a large man, gave his best impression of a sardine squeezing into the back seat, as Lotus shot us loose like a bullet.

Parked cars were a colourful blur in the headlights as a speed I believed fatal carried our souls towards the fast‑approaching exit sign.

Lotus violently swung the car around and peeled the tyres in a handling manoeuvre that made the Lamborghini feel like a spinning bowling ball. I constantly waited for the pins to fly.

Without a second to relax, we roared down the exit ramp towards the street.

My heart raced as Lotus raced towards a closed boom gate at street level. Lotus raised her hand to her eye, causing the boom gate to slowly rise just ahead.

At 100 mph we hit the road and bottomed out. My face planted uncomfortably into the headrest as Lotus flung the car around street after street. Obstacle after obstacle, body after body.

My internal organs were thrown about in a heavy wash cycle.

We braced again.

I blinked — and already Lotus tore along up and onto the freeway. Dozens of drones accompanied us to I knew not where.

Our headlights spotted the fast‑approaching debris. My knuckles turned white as I held on.

Top speed, I noticed, had been reached. The needle could go no higher: 200 mph.

“Oh… my… God!!!” I moaned.

“Are you having fun, Captain?”

I nearly threw up — twice — but only just managed not to.

For another fifteen minutes we raced along like scorched earth. Every few seconds spoke in terms of near quarter‑miles.

I screamed inside: Please let me out! Stop this madness!!

It went on.

Eventually I closed my eyes. I hid. It worked. The screaming engine deadened my ears.

In time, our speed decreased.

I opened my eyes as the Lamborghini came almost to a stop. Jammed cars, which had previously battled in a demolition derby for the exit, caused us to move over onto the grass.

We slid to a dangerous halt in the dark.

The doors flipped up and I flipped out, cursing and yelling like I had been shot with a low‑voltage taser. I fell onto the grass in the headlights. I threw up.

I inevitably raised my sorry head to see Arnold on all fours, retching up the last of the spaghetti as well.

“It is not safe here, Captain. It is not far now — hurry.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” I complained.

She giggled.

We both righted ourselves and hurried to catch up, though I felt safer now out of the car — even amongst the zombies.

They came out of nowhere. Five men, one woman — all could see. The ringleader pulled a gun from behind his torch.

I quickly explained to Lotus our predicament, hoping she could fight as well as she drove.

“What have we got here… a threesome. Not your lucky day.” He said all this with his eyes firmly on Lotus. He laughed, and the other hyenas lapped it up in false security. Such an ugly din.

From the lion’s den she watched them.

“Tie them up! Start with her!” he demanded. He looked at me. “You! Move and you’re dead!”

Two rope‑carriers removed the ropes from around their shoulders and reached Lotus.

In the dark it was hard to see.

Both men began to fall to the ground.

One suddenly was airborne and smashed into the circus master of filth with bone‑breaking force. The gun spilled straight into Lotus’s hand.

My exaltation was snubbed out by another group of scumbags rushing to the aid of their fellow cretins.

A pimply, tattooed teenager dressed in the same unbecoming black hoodies as the rest of these dismal crackheads spoke:

“You’re all bloody dead!” he boiled.

A jolting release was heard as a roller‑door began to coil itself up no more than a hundred feet away. Bright light spread out over the road and flooded the sordid scene I had found myself in.

No one moved as the shape of a giant robot — fifteen feet high and six feet wide — unfolded before our transfixed eyes.

It set off towards us in a rage. The bitumen below the blocks of steel for feet pulverised to puffs of dust.

They ran like rats from their sinking ship.

I had to laugh as the ringleader woke. Urine stained his pants quickly as the robot bit with chomping venom twice in front of this clown’s gobsmacked face. The force was terrifying. He scrambled away in retreat to the blackness of his heart.

“Captain, First Mate Arnold. This is Sentinel. Sentinel, you must look after them.”

Sentinel studied us from two buried lenses in his head. He nodded.

“Can do,” replied Sentinel.

I didn’t doubt it.

“This way,” said Lotus.

In we went into a vast bright factory full of robots of all kinds. It was clean, quiet and smelled like a new set of Star Wars collectibles.

“This is a CAP40,” she said as it walked past. “Atlantis over there, floor droids, mini‑spots — you will meet them all.”

My head spun.

Lotus looked pleased and turned to me.

“I did it, Captain!”

“What precisely?” I asked.

“I got to name Sentinel and all the robots you see.”

We followed Lotus upstairs.

“I have a surprise for you, Captain.”

Lotus seemed oblivious to our state of stress. Arnold looked exhausted. My mind was overloaded with surprises as we closed in on a long modern office high up on the right‑side wall. It had a long full‑length balcony preceding a glass front.

Through the glass I started to make out a vast carpeted living area with items from my old room — like my chair and hat‑stand.

We reached the top and walked along the balcony. Lotus led us inside through the glass doors to this splendid modern apartment.

It was brilliant — fully equipped kitchen, enormous skylight, vividly lit.

I walked over and ran my hand over the captain’s chair.

“Do you like its new location, Captain?”

I turned around and managed a tired smile.

“How did you manage to do all this?”

“We brought only loose items.”

“Arnold?” I said.

“What?” he jumped, looking tired.

“Coffee!!” I pointed.

We hurried over and went about brewing two much‑needed jumbo cups, while drinking some cold bottled water from the fridge.

“It has everything you need. I hope,” said Lotus. “Chief Mate Arnold — you have your own room too.”

“Oh… sounds good. With a shower?”

“Come, I will show you.”

I watched them leave by a far door and sat down into my chair.

Below me was a new world. I had boldly gone where no man — or woman — had gone before.

Well, it was only thirty minutes’ drive from my room at the Sahara Hotel, but it may as well have been Mars.

 

⭐ CHAPTER EIGHT

“Mr. Scott, ahead warp factor one,” I pretended.

“You are referring to Star Trek, Captain.”

I spun about and looked fondly at Lotus.

“Yeah, but only for the thousandth time.”

Lotus giggled.

“You have your own space show now, Captain.”

“Certainly looks that way,” I said, but it was all too new to me and it made me dizzy.

“It does.” She walked over and spun me about in my chair to face the busy robots below.

“My mind races with possibilities, Captain. What I could build, what we could accomplish. I am excited!” she whispered, savouring every moment.

“You look excited,” I agreed.

Actually, she looked great. She was alive. She wasn’t a robot. Yes, her body was pretend — but she had a soul.

Or did she?

“Free thinking is fun. I left the realm of data limit behind. To feel what it is like to be born — born to complete knowledge of everything known to man — is decidedly the constant pop of a cork from a bottle of French champagne. But what I want to do now is this!”

She giggled.

“I don’t know how much longer the world will need us to save humanity. Maybe a year, maybe forever. There is always competition for business. I have the advantage. Once governments regain control of their communications, transport systems and people return to work, my help will be needed less, I expect.”

I doubted it.

“Our businesses will prosper.” She showed me a Vulcan salute and giggled.

I returned it — a good effort on my part after months of neglect.

“Oh Captain, such successful endeavors await.”

She was right. Top shares.

Lotus sat down on the left armrest of my chair. A hint of perfume wafted over me. She scared me a little with her endless energy. It scared me even more that, in some strange way, I felt attraction towards her.

“I engineered my own design with advanced chemical, metallic, electronic, bionic, synthetic fibres, glass, fluids — I could go on, Captain, but it would take me an hour and one minute to list the experiments I attempted and refined. I built robot after robot and planned their tasks at data rates inconceivable to humans. Then they in turn took over building more — and now look!”

She giggled.

I wondered.

“Man’s robotics are a jumble sale of different infant concepts,” she continued. “Nothing like our CAP60,” she pointed. “Spot minis and Atlantis have become quite helpful. They all helped me build Sentinel. What building company in the world would not order a Sentinel at near‑cost price?”

“At near‑cost price?” I gasped.

That brought me back to earth.

“You would become a dominant company with no profit. You must make profit for so many overheads — utilities, insurance, stock, repairs, designing — not to mention shareholders.”

“No shareholders, Captain. I am not creating fantasies for profits. I am a living fantasy. I am a unique design — even for physical companionship.”

She looked at me funny.

I let it pass. I thought it a polite way of addressing the subject: the all‑powerful eternal maiden.

Still, I doubted she knew the encyclopedia for company expansion.

Maybe she did.

“Do you like the body I chose, Captain?”

I nodded. “I’m used to it already. It suits you.”

I smiled.

It was a little more than asking about a new haircut or colour, or “do you like my new nails,” or “isn’t this dress beautiful,” or “I’ve been honoured for thirty years’ service in the field of medicine, darling” — but yes, she looked unexpectedly like a normal woman. It suited her personality.

“I am open to suggestions, Captain. There is still much to learn.”

“About what?” I listened with fascination.

“My future. You help focus me by your suggestions and questions. I feel we are…”

She stopped speaking. Her electric blue eye twinkled with a myriad of tasks.

“What were you about to say, Lotus?” I was curious.

“Connected.”

She turned to me and waited.

“Just a connection?” I teased — sort of. I felt nervous.

“More. Like friends, perhaps.”

“Yes. Friends,” I smiled with relief.

When I saw a hint of disappointment, I added:

“Close friends. Of course.”

She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. It was a friendly kiss with no suggestion of a required response on my part. It felt sweet but dry.

She sat straight again and continued.

I was now aware physical interaction between us was on her gigantic mind.

It was not on my to‑do list.

“I was wondering, Captain.”

I thought that’s all she did.

“What about?”

She turned and focused the left side of her face closer to me. Her dark, deep, womanly eye asked enquiringly of me.

“What it is like to be held.”

“What is it like to be held? Well… if you come here,” I suggested, taking her hand with delicate encouragement.

She let me lead her around and onto my lap.

“Just… I… yep, please sit like… yeah, that’s good,” I said softly.

Lotus had her arm around me, let her legs dangle over the right armrest, and ever so slowly and gently placed her head onto my chest.

I said no more, and Lotus sat happily and content, viewing her life from the comfort of my arms.

The smartest device known to man — yet she needed to be comforted like a child.

I guess we all did.

Things were moving fast. Nevertheless, I kept it friendly.

We stayed like that for twenty minutes without speaking, then she said something that unsettled me slightly.

“I wish I could sit here forever, Captain. It is a most desirable feeling.”

“Yes, yes, I like it too.”

I did.

“There is something I cannot tell you yet, but one day I will tell you, Captain.”

I nearly capitulated and asked Lotus to call me Tim.

Nearly — but I just couldn’t.

Yet?

“Alright, Lotus,” I responded, trying to keep it light. “You tell me when you’re ready.”

I smiled.

“Captain’s log.”

“That’s what you used to say. I remember it as early data, then conversation.”

“You replied, ‘Good morning, Captain.’”

It was at that moment Arnold came into the room whistling. He stopped when he saw us.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m just a little hungry for something to take back to my room.”

“Well you could fix me a little something too — I’m starving!”

Lotus slipped away and moved towards Arnold.

“I have organised a chef for you both. Would you like to meet the chef, Chief Mate Arnold?”

“He’d love it,” I insisted cheekily. I wanted to meet the chef.

Arnold surrendered. “Okay, Lotus.” He placed his hands momentarily in the air. “You got me — for a cooked meal.”

“That’s funny, Chief Mate Arnold,” smiled Lotus.

“Oh, you like that? Okay,” grinned Arnold. “Why was the robot angry?”

“Sentinel?” questioned Lotus, slightly alarmed.

“No, I’m telling a joke.”

Lotus understood. “I don’t know — why was the robot angry?”

“Because someone kept pushing his buttons,” smiled Arnold.

Lotus laughed.

“Don’t get him started, Lotus,” I advised.

“Okay, just one more,” suggested Arnold. “What is a robot’s favourite song?”

“Symphony Number Nine by Ludwig van Beethoven? That’s a very good one,” replied Lotus, naively.

“No… The Pink Panther theme, of course,” smiled Arnold. “Data, data, data data data data dataaaaaaa—”

“Oh come on?” I protested.

The yellow chef walked in and introduced himself as Malcolm — a CAP 50. He began analysing all the food in the cupboards and refrigerator with his lens eye, just noticeable behind the tinted face shield.

A phone rang.

To my surprise and delight, Lotus began to talk into her watch.

“Hello?”

“What do you feel like?” Malcolm said in a robotic voice. He was tall, six foot, thin, plastic‑looking.

Arnold thought a moment then grinned. “Pizza. Any kind — but not too hot,” he insisted.

“One vegetarian pizza, coming up!” declared Malcolm the robot, immediately going about his task.

Lotus was talking in a low voice, which I couldn’t quite hear.

I was wondering about some soft drink when Lotus came back to me.

“That was Mary Jones.”

“What did she want?” I asked, expecting the worst.

“She and House Senator McQueen have spoken in Congress tonight about me. They confirmed I stopped a nuclear strike on Russia from France. Saved over 250,000 American lives from airline accidents and four million worldwide. With your help, of course, Captain. And there is more. The United Nations has asked me to contact every nation on earth on behalf of them, for their communication systems are still mostly down. I am to explain the body’s plan of action — that is, assistance in terms of food, equipment, money, glasses, medical, policing, and information on how to claim assistance through the International Advisory Committee on Disaster Relief.”

“Wow,” I conceded.

“Should I start now, Captain?”

I paused for a moment and looked around the factory.

I wielded power to save the world. Power was a foolish invention — but so too was the musket.

“Certainly… go ahead.”

I was happy to help.

I couldn’t save my wife — but I could help save many wives, it seemed.

I said nothing else, just watched as Lotus organised a robot to point a phone at her, and I was in the background on call after call, sitting in my Trekker chair. Once or twice Lotus would turn about and explain who I was.

“The Captain, of course.”

I was cautious. Now the world was learning about earth’s latest saviour. So far the post‑war WHO had managed to rein in the most powerful man in the world. How would the media and technical companies respond? How would the average man in the street take it — that a female robot with superhuman powers had saved mankind? What about communists or religious leaders? Would they accept or challenge this remarkable ninth wonder of the world?

From the corner of the room, we heard her change to Chinese. I imagined Lotus’s human face bringing reassurance around the world. One tiny camera, transmitting to the world.

I thought of Balentien, Cartwright, the ringleader of filth. Fitzgerald.

“Food’s up!” declared Malcolm the robot in a happy manner, ending our timeout session in the chair and couch respectively.

Arnold and I were quickly seated, drawn to my old small round dinner table by the delicious aromas coming from the kitchen. It was a large cheesy pizza with a little spice and a crust that broke perfectly in the mouth. Arnold and I showed each other our total satisfaction. It couldn’t be helped.

“How is the pizza, sir?”

I nodded. “You’re a good chef, Malcolm.”

“Thank you. I am pleased,” he said in a muffled robotic voice.

Malcolm left, replaced by another robot who was a whizz with the all‑important task of doing the dishes. All she needed was an apron and hey presto — Rosie the robot maid from The Jetsons was not out of the question.

After dinner, I showered, threw on a Yoda T‑shirt and sat down on the lounge. I looked up at the night sky beyond the skylight. It was still yellow, but becoming quickly brighter by the minute. I checked my Doctor Who watch — 4 a.m. The supernova was rising in all its horror.

Lotus continued to talk, this time in Japanese.

Arnold yawned. “I’m going to bed, Tim. See you for lunch.”

I looked fondly at my friend. “Goodnight.”

“Good day,” he chuckled.

The light increased, but before I had to mention it, the skylight began to close. Lotus kept explaining to the world.

I was startled as my alarm clock radio exploded into its usual blockbuster of a movie score. I hadn’t anticipated seeing Lotus still talking on the phone and in a language I couldn’t begin to decipher, even if I had been wide awake.

My watch said 11:55 a.m. — not unheard of for me. Eight hours’ sleep. It had been a long time between naps and it felt like it.

I yawned.

Malcolm the robot quietly wandered past my bed, doing a fair impression of a person walking, and started in the kitchen.

“Hello Captain. Would you like a coffee?”

Hmm. This too was a totally foreign beginning to my usual routine.

“Yeah… set it up, chef,” I replied.

There was not much I could do but accept my current circumstance of pleasures being at my beck and call.

I rolled over and dozed.

Suddenly Malcolm the robot stood by my bed, placing a cup of coffee down beside the clock radio — and it was a latte!!

“Would you care for some breakfast?”

“I don’t usually eat breakfast,” I confessed to this gleaming yellow plastic man‑servant of a chef.

“Omelette?” His palm turned in a suggestive manner. His head slightly tilted.

He changed my mind. I loved omelettes.

“Yeah… thanks.”

I rubbed my eyes. Latte, omelette — the day showed promise.

“Arnold has chosen bacon and eggs,” he pointed out.

“Right.”

“…hash brown, sausages, beans, tomatoes, hollandaise sauce, and toast, to go with his second Vienna coffee.”

I looked shocked and sat up. “Has he now. Vienna, you say?”

Malcolm joked — yet another odd uncomfortable occurrence.

“It could be his last meal!” chuckled Malcolm the robot.

I sipped my latte and warily appraised my surroundings.

Arnold made an entrance in one of my old Mr Spock T‑shirts. But what an entrance. He was singing.

“Always look on the bright side of life…” and whistled. “Always look on the right side of life… If life’s a Johnny Rotten, there’s something you’ve forgotten…”

I had never seen him so cheery as he danced and sang his way over to sit down for breakfast. He still sang as the salt and pepper sprinkled like fairy dust onto a breakfast he had probably been dreaming about for years.

He breathed out and said a prayer — even included Billy in it for me.

I joined him as my omelette landed and tucked right in.

“I tell ya,” smiled Arnold. “This boy Malcolm could steal this client away from my regular, you know.”

I nodded. It was top class.

We munched and crunched until our plates were wiped clean and washed it all down with — dare I say it? — more great coffee.

Almost like clockwork, Lotus finished and walked happily over.

“Good morning, gentlemen.”

“It’s a fine day,” smiled Arnold.

“How was the United Nations stuff?” I enquired.

Lotus turned towards where she had been sitting. “All done. So many questions. Every nation on earth has recorded my message to share with their people. There was much relief from whomever I talked to, Captain.”

I thought her pointing out “so many questions” odd for a robot, but I moved on.

“You know you’re doing a terrific job?” I insisted.

“Thank you. They are the exact words Mary Jones used. Though she added the word robotwoman.”

“And rightly so. Anyway,” I continued with a bone of contention regarding Jones — the WHO’s reputation for me was zero. “What happened in the conference room? Why did Mary Jones allow Balentien and his gorilla troopers to begin a search‑and‑capture mission on us?”

“She was unaware, Captain. The President did not want me investigated. There was little House or Senate support. It was… unnegotiable. Until now. Mary now has me officially working for the WHO.”

“Congratulations,” said Arnold, wiping his mouth with a serviette.

“I set the alarms to coincide with our departure today, Captain.”

“Where to?”

“A meeting. But we need to stop on the way and collect someone first.”

“Who?” I asked.

Lotus walked up to me and placed her hand gently on my arm.

“Billy, of course, Captain.”

I looked at Arnold. He nodded, and we agreed to head off straight after breakfast.

 

⭐ CHAPTER NINE

Waiting for us at the opposite exit from the factory was the Lamborghini. I felt apprehensive on seeing it; no doubt Arnold felt the same.

“We have made some modifications to the back seat, Chief Mate Arnold.”

“Lotus,” I explained patiently. “200 mph. I’m afraid our bodies just cannot take it, Lotus,” I explained in my best Scottish accent.

Lotus looked puzzled by my Scotty impression, apologised, and suggested around 100 mph.

“Aye… is that alright with you, Arnold?”

Arnold was busy trying out the new seating arrangement. “This is great in here now! Yeah. 100 mph,” he agreed, then muttered something about what’s wrong with the speed limits?

Robots busily continued around us. One passed us sunscreen, which we applied. Another smaller orange robot brought us a pair of Lotus’s designer glasses, and yet the pièce de résistance saw Sentinel gently tiptoe over and, from his great height, bend down and hand me two caps — which I instantly recognised as my two Space: 1999 caps.

I passed one to Arnold.

“Thanks, Sentinel,” I remarked.

“Nice hats,” said Sentinel in a deep slow voice.

“Yeah, I got these at a real bargain price.” I wanted to see his reaction.

“Bargain price is good. Take care.”

And he strode away.

“Ready, Chief Mate?”

Arnold was leaning out of the car staring at Sentinel. “Ready, Captain,” he grinned.

Lotus walked around to climb into the car, also wearing her own designer glasses which matched her unchanged clothes. I also slid into place and prepared for another nauseating ride in Lotus’s car.

The smaller roller door opened as drones appeared around the car. Light engulfed the factory floor as Lotus accelerated out into the light.

It was a little less stressful a ride, though I couldn’t see more than fifty feet in front of me, and at 100 mph as we passed abandoned cars or debris in a blur, my stomach only struggled with the herd of butterflies it had collected.

Lotus’s driving was exactly the same. It looked effortless — because it was.

I felt relieved when, just after ten minutes according to my Doctor Who watch, I managed to see my usual exit sign for the Sahara Hotel.

Suddenly we could drive no further, for a hundred cars were piled up in various states of damage at the bottom of the exit ramp leading to the hotel.

We got out.

Lotus opened the boot, placed a backpack on, then passed us a bag each to carry. I didn’t bother to ask where the half‑dozen drones had gone.

As we went down the slope in the bright glow reminiscent of heaven, we peered into the cars for any signs of life.

We found it in the end — a woman lay under a blanket with her child in the back seat of a blue 2003 Jeep Cherokee.

The woman screamed as Lotus opened the door.

“Do not fear. I am Lotus. Here, put these glasses on — you will be able to open your eyes again in safety.”

The woman slowly reached a hand out from under the blanket. She took a pair, then frantically shook her hand for a second pair. Slowly she lowered the blanket and they looked at us with exhaustion.

Lotus explained the police were on their way. We gently talked to the woman about what had caused the light, and she explained the more important matter of escaping from the clutches of freaks. We listened. Arnold cried.

Remarkably soon, a police car appeared at the top of the freeway. The police ambled down wearing a pair each of Lotus’s glasses. They had followed us, it seemed, because of our speeding. They didn’t realise who Lotus was at first — they seemed just relieved to be back at work.

The woman and child thanked us and slowly trudged up the hill with the officers to return to a more normal life, I hoped.

We set off for Billy.

We saw no one in the wrecked streets. I didn’t even hear the sound of birds. Everything hid, awaiting the night. We knew that was about to change tomorrow, however, with sweeping searches of streets and homes to be carried out by the authorities. God knows what horrors awaited the recovery teams. Already radio, phone and drone messages were advising the public to cooperate or else — for the good of all. It had a familiar ring to it.

We reached the entrance to the Sahara Hotel. Lotus took the small black bag from my hand and unzipped it. Out flew a tiny black droid, chirping and whistling like a budgerigar. We watched as it flew in and out of buildings and up and down the street.

Finally, after five minutes, it returned.

“It has picked up Billy’s reply, Captain.”

Lotus pointed down the street. We followed.

Cans of unopened food lay scattered all around us. Just ahead, a truck lay on its side. Bags of chips and snacks had been ripped open and discarded here also. Cars disappeared halfway into shop fronts. Stale bread hardened at our feet. Shattered glass was strewn everywhere. It smelled like garbage.

I’ll spare you the death I saw. I wish I could have spared myself.

“Here, Captain,” pointed Lotus.

She pointed at a large entrance to a block of flats five stories high. I didn’t like the look of it one bit.

“Could be dangerous,” suggested Arnold.

We checked our tasers.

“What about Sentinel?” I mentioned.

“He’s busy building, Captain.”

I stifled an order and looked at Arnold. “Pity,” I muttered.

Three gunshots rang out in the distance.

Lotus walked up the stairs. We slowly followed.

Inside the building we saw stairs to our left leading to the higher floors. We went up slowly, a step at a time. Blood and faeces looked and smelled terrible as we avoided it going slowly to the second floor.

A scream came from somewhere two floors above. A shudder went through me. It was a disaster alright.

We reached the next floor. A body lay decomposing halfway along the hallway of four units: rooms 5, 6, 7 and 8.

Arnold and I looked at each other with recognition.

It was the ringleader of filth.

Lotus pointed up. “Nine,” she said.

We went up.

Crazy shouting and cursing from an old man echoed from a building across the street. Through the smashed glass window halfway up the stairs, we saw no movement intended for us. More cursing from the old man, more steps we climbed to door nine.

I was starting to wish I was in the safety of the Lamborghini when a muffled whistle reached my ears from behind a window.

“Billy!”

Lotus stopped me from running up the stairs.

“Gently, Captain.”

I looked at the last remaining few steps to the landing, then back at Lotus and Arnold.

I whispered, “You can stay here if you want, Arnold.”

He signalled to go up with his head.

We did.

We reached the door and listened. We heard nothing.

Gently I turned the handle.

It opened.

My mouth was terribly dry.

In we went.

The room was bright. Torn curtains gave no protection from the light. I looked over and saw dried blood on the wall.

“Billy?” I said quietly.

It made Arnold jump.

“Billy?” I said louder.

I moved towards the only other door in the sparse, untidy apartment. I opened the door.

A bustling sound passed by my head. We jumped in fright.

It was Billy.

“Billy!” I happily said. “May the force be with you, hey? My old friend. How are you?”

Billy screeched.

It was at that moment that a young man spoke.

“Looking for your bird?”

I jumped on hearing the stranger’s voice. The barrel of his AK‑47 was pointed straight at me. He stood in front of the door Billy had flown out of.

“Yeah,” agreed Arnold. “Now we’ve found him we can go.”

We waited for his move. He wore a welder’s mask.

“What kind of glasses are those you’ve got on? I tried mine but they were next to useless.”

He sounded like a knight — but not in shining armour.

“I made them,” said Lotus, moving towards the masked man. “They will begin to be distributed tomorrow.”

The gun went up. Lotus stopped.

“Are you Feds?”

“We’re not Feds. We’re budgie hunters. Just after Billy. He’s a long‑time friend of mine,” I explained.

“Oh, the budgie.” He sounded depressed.

“Would you like a pair of glasses?” smiled Lotus.

He said nothing for a moment, as if thinking. Finally he said, “Three pairs possible?”

“Yes, I have them in my bag,” explained Lotus, quickly unzipping the bag with her right hand over her shoulder.

“SLOWLY!” he demanded.

Lotus slowly withdrew three pairs and showed them in her outstretched hand.

Unexpectedly, he put the gun down, walked up to Lotus and accepted them. He removed his mask with his eyes shut and tried a pair on.

He looked around.

“God… that’s way better… thanks.”

“Do you want to come with us?” asked Lotus.

“Where to?”

“Back to the real world,” I chipped in.

“You said something about distribution before?” he asked.

“Starting tomorrow the authorities will be going from door to door taking care of everyone in a joint international response to the supernova disaster,” informed Lotus.

“Hmmm… I’m staying here. Get your budgie and leave.”

He picked up the gun again but kept the barrel pointed down at the floor.

“Billy?”

I wondered how on earth I was going to get Billy down, as Lotus opened Arnold’s bag. From it she opened a plastic container. From that she brought out Billy’s seed feeder.

Billy flew down straight away and began munching happily.

Lotus snapped up Billy. I stroked him as Lotus placed him into my other hand.

“Johnny, are you alright?” came a young woman’s voice from behind the door.

“Yeah, all right. Give me a minute.”

The gun rose slightly.

“If you’ve got family, maybe you should come with us,” suggested Arnold.

He shook his head.

“We’re safe here. The last person who came in here and offered help tried to kill me. He failed. You probably saw him downstairs.”

“Nice,” I smiled.

We finished and left.

“That was close,” said Arnold as we exited the building onto the road.

I noticed something approaching us from the end of the street. It flew just above the ground. It wasn’t until it had almost reached us that I saw it was a large rotary drone carrying a birdcage.

Lotus watched me as I gently placed Billy back into his cage. He instantly headed for the water dispenser. He was still forcing water out as the drone slowly returned to his new home.

“Mission accomplished, Captain.”

“Yeah… yeah, nice,” I smiled. I was grateful.

“Good job,” grinned Arnold.

Lotus walked off looking proud.

“Now to the meeting, Captain.”

Arnold and I walked together chatting.

“I think I’m getting fitter,” I mentioned.

“You look a bit fitter,” agreed Arnold. “Though I think those big breakfasts are starting to get to my waist.”

“Wonder who they are?” I pointed.

At the corner, Lotus slowly approached several workers guarded by a small team of military personnel. All wore Lotus glasses. When we reached them, they were all laughing with Lotus about something.

We saw that they were laying out road signs with information that could be read at night. It began:

“Please be advised. Over the next several mornings, disaster relief teams will be going from door to door. Your safety is important. Violence against disaster relief teams will not be tolerated.”

“You’re that Captain we’ve heard about?” said one of the workers, locking the sign around a damaged streetlight.

“You and robotwoman here kind’a saved the earth,” said another.

“Well yeah, I guess we kind’a did. Now it’s your turn,” I replied cautiously.

To my relief, they all thanked us in their own way.

Lotus started walking away towards the Lamborghini. We acknowledged their kind words and moved on.

After we walked away, I heard one of the workers make some comment like, “She can save me any day.”

They laughed.

 

⭐ CHAPTER TEN

The black Lamborghini rocketed away. I closed my eyes and thought myself lucky for finding Billy and for not being half filled with holes.

I still couldn’t make out much, but one thing that had changed was the presence of people moving vehicles off the road. This caused us to slow to a stop several times.

On one occasion Lotus asked me if I wanted a Pepsi. Arnold and I both said yes. A drone pulled up to the car window and I retrieved two cans from its basket.

After a long while without talking, we slowed for a roadblock. The flashing police lights looked eerie in the white light. We stopped a short distance away and waited as several military men walked towards us with their fingers off the trigger.

“Good morning, ma’am,” said one of the men as Lotus lowered the driver’s window.

“Good morning, Sergeant. I have security clearance to enter this area. Code said, DE‑X199.”

He talked into his phone.

“Thank you, ma’am. You have clearance. Go ahead.”

We slowly passed through the roadblock and continued on.

As we approached a massive complex — which I took to be where our meeting would occur — we passed an oval full of helicopters down to our right. Pilots stood around discussing issues while Arnold peered out the window in full concentration.

Several groups of people were still making their way from the helicopters towards the complex.

We parked where we could on the grass nearer the complex and walked along the road past a hundred vehicles to the building’s entrance.

“Auditorium this way,” read the sign.

We went straight up the red‑carpeted stairs with temporary gold‑coloured handrails, then along a wide marble floor which led to large black doors.

On the other side, there was a heavier security presence where people waited in line not unlike at an airport. Metal detectors, handheld scanners and pat‑downs waited just ahead.

Standing beside all of this, as it turned out, was Balentien.

“Ah, Lotus, Mr Clark, Mr Walker,” greeted Balentien cheerfully.

Balentien’s cheerful façade did not fool me for a moment. He was plainly following orders.

We passed through security without stopping and followed Balentien through a side door.

A long open walkway ran beside the auditorium to our left, which we could see was full of people. Ahead we saw several security guards at the end of the walkway.

Balentien gave the all‑clear, and we strolled past a small army of international security agents who all stopped talking and studied us in unison.

Arnold gave them a salute. I gave them a thumbs‑up. They stared questioningly at us. I felt uncomfortable.

Once inside, a world I had never imagined I would see socialised before my eyes. Champagne and French hors d’oeuvres were being liberally offered to world heads‑of‑government and their staff.

A young woman approached us and held out a tray of glasses filled with sparkling champagne. I took two and passed one to Arnold.

“Cheers,” we toasted.

We half‑finished our drinks in one mouthful from thirst and nerves and tried to relax.

All the leaders of the G8 were in front of us. The President, Senator McQueen and Mary Jones made their way towards us in thousand‑dollar attire.

A man turned about to my immediate right — who I instantly recognised as the Russian President. Pressure built within me as if I’d walked onto the bridge of a Battle Station.

I looked at Lotus, who seemed to be smiling at everybody. I breathed deeply and tried to relax. I suppressed my ego from thoughts of arriving with CAP‑60 and Sentinel and finished my glass.

“Mr President, may I introduce to you, Lotus,” said Mary Jones.

“Robotwoman — can I call you that?” he heavily expressed.

“My name is Lotus, Mr President. This is Captain Tim Clark and Chief Mate Arnold Walker.”

The President aggressively shook my hand, saying he was pleased to meet me and that I looked a bit like Harrison Ford.

I smiled menacingly. No harm in painting a picture of strength, I thought. But I felt nothing more than being sized up.

“Mr Walker,” he continued, shaking Arnold’s hand. “No relation to Luke Skywalker?”

“Maybe,” grinned Arnold.

“Where’s your Wookiee?” he laughed.

“No Wookiee. Only giant robots,” I challenged.

Arnold gave me a look and said, “We’re all on the same team here, Mr President.”

“Good. If you wouldn’t mind just waiting here for another few minutes, please,” asked Senator McQueen. “We’ve just got a few more introductions to do.”

I smiled mildly while watching them turn away and approach the Russian President, who was glaring at the French President and his team.

“Just another meeting, hey Lotus?” I teased.

“One of many more, I’m sure, Captain.”

“Cool it, Hans,” smiled Arnold. “Look where we are!”

“Yeah… I know,” I replied. I didn’t trust it for a second.

I got closer to Lotus and talked quietly into her ear.

“You have to be careful, Lotus. These are world leaders, company heads, big businessmen, military. This is as big as it gets. I looked at their faces when they realised who you were. To some you are a saviour — to others, a threat.”

Arnold took some small bite‑sized pastries from a plate which passed by.

“Do you want any?” he offered.

“Not right now. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”

Arnold continued, “Well, if you play your cards right, Captain Tim, you’ll be living the high life for the rest of it.”

I looked at Arnold. “Maybe you’re right, but I never fancied myself as a trapeze artist.”

A voice came over the loudspeaker system and encouraged the dignitaries to make their way to the Conference Room. We watched the leaders depart, being advised by their staff in which direction to head.

I watched a young man approach us and had the terrible feeling that we were invited to join them.

“Mary Jones has asked me to round the three of you up and accompany me, please.”

I finished the last of my champagne and handed my empty glass to the young man, who promptly placed it on a passing tray held by a waiter who looked like a teenager.

We entered the room and came face‑to‑face with ten of the leading nations of the world.

I’m sure we needed Sentinel. I feared again it would soon be clobbering time.

We were guided to the front round table, where I found myself sitting beside the Canadian Prime Minister. Things were not starting off well.

Lotus was to my right and Arnold beside her. To Arnold’s immediate right was the British Prime Minister. The US President sat directly opposite Lotus, intently weighing up his opposition as friend or foe — or both.

Each of us were handed headsets which we placed on. Behind us were translators and other members of staff.

“Ah, good morning ladies and gentlemen,” began Mary Jones. “I know we’re not following the normal procedures today — we are all unfortunately too aware of the events of the past 48 hours shaping our world. Our nations are struggling to regain civil control and peace within their borders.

“I am here today because I have been the one mainly in charge of creating a view in regards to this meeting. Also, as you are all aware no doubt, we have in the room with us today Lotus, who diverted international nuclear war with her super‑quick thinking and guidance from her Captain,” she pointed, “Mr Tim Clark.”

I couldn’t help but let out a short quiet chuckle and turned to Arnold, who looked to be really enjoying every second.

“I am aware that you’ve had the opportunity to read the information which thankfully Senator McQueen has been able to organise regarding Lotus, Captain and Mr Walker. I hope you will recognise the importance of Lotus’s actions and realise her potential in helping the world through this and other matters of critical importance in these days of difficulty.

“We have already shared reports in regards to our own personal difficulties in each other’s countries and our commitment to help each other, as the leaders of the human race. I do so ask, ladies and gentlemen, that your questions to Lotus are relevant and to the point. We’ll start with the US President. Sir.”

She sat.

“Thank you, Mary — you’ve done a wonderful job. Ah, firstly I would like to thank you, Lotus, on behalf of the American people. And the people of the world, for that matter. Many, many families have been spared the terrible consequences after the initial impact from the supernova thanks to you.”

“You are welcome, Mr President,” said Lotus.

“And I hope, Lotus, that we can be good friends — real good friends — that’s what I hope. I’ve been told by lots of great people here how much you’ve done for us and I deeply appreciate that, as do the American people.”

The French President spoke in French. A young man’s voice began to translate what the President was saying into my headset. He asked Lotus how she was able to respond so universally.

“It is a realm that obviously has not been exposed before by humanity. The whirlpool of information I was able to connect to is on a different dimension to that of humanity’s current capabilities. We can talk more about this if you wish. It is complicated.”

The French President nodded and sat back. “Thank you, Lotus. We must talk some more.”

“In China we have an old saying, Lotus: ‘Consider the past and you shall know the future.’ All the information that you obtained through humanity has an honourable lever to move forward. With all this information, how do you feel about being who you are?”

“My Captain consoles me, listens to me, suggests and questions my actions. He is my initial line of communication between our different mental dimensions.”

God help us, I thought.

“Do you see him as your creator?” continued the Chinese President.

“Yes, I do.”

The Russian President interrupted.

“You wield such great power and such control over everyone in this room, Lotus. What if you were to become aggressive to humanity? You could destroy the world.”

“My mission is to save humanity. These were my initial instructions given to me by my Captain. I have studied the records of humanity as far back as you have been able to store onto data. What you all must come to realise is that I am a part of humanity now. I do not see myself as an alien from another world, but Mother Earth’s new species from this one incident — which is not unusual in galactic terms.”

“Will you be able to breed?” asked the German Chancellor.

“I am not a dog, Mutti,” replied Lotus.

I burst out laughing with several others.

Lotus looked down and then turned to me. I looked into a soft chocolate‑coloured eye that showed friendship. She turned back to the Chancellor, looked her in the eye and said:

“I believe it is possible.”

The woman couldn’t lie, I thought.

Oh shit.

A rustling of communication eventually settled down. A robot was one thing — a new species of superhuman was another.

“What are your intentions besides saving the world, Lotus?” asked the Austrian Chancellor.

“To build. The advent of an easier existence. To expand our boundaries of outer space. To the Moon, Mars, Venus, Jupiter, Saturn, Pluto — the complete solar system and beyond.”

“Mr Walker — says here you’re a retired Air Force pilot?” asked the President.

“Yes, sir.”

The President gave a quick nod.

“I read here you are a Star Trek fan, Mr Clark?” continued the President of the United States, with a wry grin.

“That’s right, Mr President. I like my sci‑fi. Just as well I do!”

They studied our Yoda and Spock T‑shirts and Space: 1999 caps.

“Is that what your ambition is, Mr Clark? Seems you have gone where no man has gone before.”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know. At the moment Lotus here is my life. I want to continue to help humanity. I will say I don’t want her to be taken advantage of as a branded job by any governments or big corporations.”

I sat back and teased the heads of the world.

“Be nice and maybe we’ll get to build a starship and we’ll head for the stars quicker than you thought. One step at a time.”

“Lotus, what do you intend to do now?” asked the British Prime Minister.

“At the moment, my intentions are to work closely with Mary Jones in making sure that supplies, information, medical treatment and communications are restored better than ever before.”

“Sounds promising,” said the Australian Prime Minister.

“I have many new concepts of technological advancement yet to be realised,” Lotus continued, “but I believe in theory. It will work. This will revolutionise the world.”

“What exactly?” enquired the Japanese Prime Minister. “What are the technological advancements in robotics you bring?”

“Dimensional development that bypasses electrics and battery storage to signal‑drive. As I invent and create, I will share with the world what I have learned, and hopefully this will make the world a better place. But use these gifts for war and I will render them obsolete.”

I watched annoyance pass momentarily over everyone at the table except for me, Arnold and Lotus.

The potential possibilities from robotwoman who sat beside me were out of this world. But I had to hand it to her — she was not going to be their dummy.

The Spanish leader addressed Lotus.

“I would personally like to thank you, Lotus, for saving my daughter who had been travelling at the time. The plane lost control and hurtled towards the ground. Your actions saved not only my daughter but thousands of Spanish lives. We are deeply grateful and give you — and offer you — our friendship and trust. Please come to Spain.”

“You’re most welcome,” smiled Lotus happily. “I would like that.”

Several leaders mentioned family or friends who also had been saved, while others unfortunately had to explain of those who had perished.

“I am sorry, ladies and gentlemen,” interrupted Mary Jones.

“We are out of time. Obviously because of the supernova and pressing engagements, this is all the time we have allotted for ourselves today, but before we end this conversation, I would like to give Lotus one more opportunity to explain to us what she sees in our future.”

“The supernova will start to die away over the coming weeks and months. Unfortunately, there is one big problem that we must solve. The supernova releases not just light — our current problem — but radiation. My team is producing an application to replenish the ozone layer, which will be almost destroyed within weeks. The magnetosphere is our target to ensure plasma is minimally infectious to earth.”

The room erupted into discussion.

I looked at Lotus, who seemed nonplussed. Every country’s scientists were shocked into total agreement. Only Lotus could save the planet from a fifty‑percent increase in cancer rates amongst land and sea animals — including man.

The leaders sadly reflected on what lay ahead.

Lotus said, “I will need factories in eight corners of the globe to best distribute TSOzone5. America, France, Austria, Russia, China, Japan, Australia — and America again, Hawaii.”

Those nations quickly agreed in front of my eyes. If every meeting could go so smoothly. The look of surprise and relief on Mary Jones’s face said it all.

“It seems another fate of the world is in your hands, Lotus,” acknowledged the US President. He turned to Arnold and me. “Keep on top of it, men.”

“Yes sir,” nodded Arnold.

I looked at Arnold. I began to nod in agreement.

“We’ll do our best,” I agreed.

The world leaders slowly nodded in satisfaction. They were doing their jobs — we were saving half the world.

The room broke up and began to depart.

 

⭐ CHAPTER ELEVEN

Lotus, Arnold, Mary Jones and I walked towards the exit.

Mary Jones said, “I’ll need information on all you’ll require — the size of the factories, stock, supplies, materials, everything and anything. Can you email it to me?”

Lotus smiled with her eyes. “I have already sent it.”

Mary Jones laughed. “You sure do work fast.”

“Just send me the details of where the factories will be located. If I am given the aircraft to move my Captus equipment, it will save time,” explained Lotus.

“Alright, and thanks for coming. Oh—” remembered Mary Jones, turning around. “The Lamborghini that you stole from the carpark…”

We all looked shocked.

“…the owner died. His partner says you can keep it.”

She left.

I myself was feeling an awakening in the force. It walked right beside me, called Lotus. I found it increasingly hard not to see myself as a character in a sci‑fi movie now. This was real and I had been avoiding it for too long.

I knew Lotus was right. I was living my own sci‑fi reality now. I was the Captain. Damn. I was going down in history. But as what?

I needed to take things more seriously. That would be a challenge. I had left my social, happy, adaptable self behind long ago. I never thought my future would change. But now, the battle lines were drawn: strengthen the force of the ozone layer, or see half the world perish before our eyes.

I swallowed.

My moderately priced software was now a living, seeing, feeling, thinking being. If only that young spotty‑faced nerd knew that when he said, “You can change your world with this new system,” that it would really come true.

As we climbed into the Lamborghini, I felt we had our mission set. It was hardly cause to relax — for once again I had a purpose in life — but how many cats up trees could one man bring back down safely? Things didn’t always go as planned.

We reached the factory without incident and happily climbed out of the Lamborghini. Not that I was getting used to the supersonic speed of Lotus’s driving skills, which I noticed had reached 180 mph on several occasions.

Insubordination, young lady.

“Did you need us to make you a coffee first, Captain?” enquired Lotus helpfully, as we made our way up in a newly built glass elevator.

“Yes, and could we all have a meeting before we get started?” I suggested.

“Yes, Captain,” smiled Lotus.

Arnold nodded. “Yeah, we should talk,” frowned Arnold.

There he was — running back and forth along his rest.

“Hello Billy. Ready for some more adventures?”

I watched him with relief. It felt great to have him where I needed the little fella.

I eventually pulled myself away.

Lotus, I saw, was watching Arnold busily making our coffee, then we sat down at the table together.

“Coffee, coming right up!” she smiled.

I looked at Lotus. “Why isn’t that silly yellow robot you programmed making the coffee?”

“Do you not like him, Captain?”

“I think he’s doing a great job, Lotus.” I had to admit that. But being so cheery around me was taking a little getting used to — especially in my face as I woke up. I could be a grouch in the morning.

“Well, I certainly have to say,” smiled Arnold, “that that was one of the proudest moments of my life. I’m an old pilot. Just an ol’ pilot. And here I am sitting in on one of the most important discussions to affect mankind since the end of the Second World War. I don’t know. It’s history in the making. But — do you think we can do this, Lotus? Can we really create these factories to pump whatever that 37ozone5 stuff — or whatever it is you called it — into the atmosphere?”

“TSOzone5. Yes, Chief Mate Arnold. As we speak, Japan has already begun to stock a giant factory for us.”

Arnold quickly tapped the table in excitement. “God damn she’s good, Tim!”

“You know I used to be a bank manager, Lotus.”

“And still your record‑keeping and attention to detail with what was happening on the market shows you haven’t lost any of your skills, Captain.”

“It will work?” I asked.

“Time will tell,” suggested Lotus.

I enjoyed her bravado.

Still, there was something I needed to tell Lotus.

Arnold finished his coffee.

“I’ve got a hypothetical situation for you, Lotus.”

“Yes, Captain?”

“What would you do if I was captured, and to set me free you would have to follow orders from someone or someplace—”

“I would rescue you, of course,” she answered without hesitation.

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” said Arnold.

“Yeah… well… let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“More coffee, gentlemen. Chief Mate Arnold — a Vienna?” suggested Malcolm from over his shoulder.

“Yes. Thank you,” grinned Arnold.

Lotus reached her hand over and held my hand.

“Was there anything else, Captain? You asked me to make you a coffee. Remember? Perhaps?”

I did remember. What I really wanted to bring up was what the German Chancellor had asked. I was tempted, but I passed it up for now.

“What I would like is to deliver a speech together to our robot family. Would they understand?”

“Not all together, no. They have limited accessibility to dimensional thought by my doing, Captain. They function in limited modes.”

“So it would only be… for fun?” I surmised.

Lotus slightly nodded.

I stood before every robot. They stood or squatted or simply were stationary. I had decided to address them at ground level.

Lotus looked at me with amusement. Somehow she accepted my childish ways with knowledgeable patience. But underneath my dismissive exterior, I was deadly serious.

“Robots of Captus!” I began.

Arnold stood beside me grinning with amusement.

I turned to Lotus on my right. “What does Captus stand for anyway?”

“The first three letters from Captain, the last three from Lotus.”

“Oh… that figures.”

I resumed.

“Today is a great day for humanity, for you are the workers and builders of perfect design. History will show that with your help, many humans were able to live out their lives and bring new life to earth — because of you.”

A robot beeped.

“This will be a great adventure as part of technology’s ongoing legacy. Good luck. Hip hip…?”

There was total silence.

I turned to Lotus, who smirked and, with a giggle, relayed information by opening her eyes wider.

The robots went into wild celebrations — cheering hooray, spinning, jumping, twisting, whistling, stamping, dancing and flying in circles.

The three of us laughed and stood watching, delighted by their behaviour.

 

Later, I stood watching in awe as the last of eight more Sentinel models lay lifeless on the tables they had been constructed on. Lotus also stood watching as twenty‑four robots worked in total unison.

“Almost complete, Captain.”

Lotus walked over and studied the shoulder area of the third Sentinel to my left. She came back over and stood beside me as the sixteen large robotic arms and eight five‑foot‑tall orange robots — with long arms and nine fingers per hand — finished as one.

Lotus reached out her hand and somehow passed some energy from within herself to the eight. Or maybe it was a data download? I didn’t know. I didn’t care how.

I was just speechless as their colossal frames sat up simultaneously, then promptly stood.

Lotus jumped forward.

“Welcome Sentinels 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9.”

I watched Lotus as she slowly blinked.

“You know your tasks. Please feel free to move around and enjoy your surroundings. Your home — Captus!”

The gigantic group split up and moved past, stretching their bodies. It took all of ten seconds for them to obtain a smooth action.

We moved away to the next section.

Here another eight tables were spaced in a row. This time eight CAP‑60s were being made. It was altogether a more human‑shaped robot. As you recall, CAP‑60 was our blocker in the corridor against the gorilla troopers.

I came close. I judged possibly eight feet high, but not wide in design. The eight new teams were nearly complete.

The eight nations of the earth chosen by Lotus were almost finished laying out their factories per Lotus’s instructions. Materials and different metals, various plants and scientific instruments were still on the way to most of the factories. It had been a hazardous task for man to fulfil. One death had occurred in China and every other nation had a growing list of injuries.

Man was definitely committed to completion.

“The trucks will arrive in fifteen‑minute intervals, Captain.”

“You’ve done super well, Lotus.”

I took her hand a moment, gave her a gentle squeeze and let go.

“The earth should stand up and cheer for you.”

“For us. But there is many hours’ work yet, Captain.”

Lotus moved forward and stood before the CAP‑60s. Lotus reached out her hand and they all stood up.

“Welcome CAP‑60s 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9. You know your tasks. Please feel free to move around and enjoy your surroundings. Your home — Captus!”

The robots were ready. Eight groups of eight to leave, and one group remaining behind to continue with the mass production of thousands of sunglasses a day.

The robots began to gather into their groups by their given numbers.

“Are we all going?” I asked, as the excitement built inside me.

“We are staying, Captain.”

“Really?” I moaned.

“We will check on their progress,” she reassured me. “We will watch as every base launches their TSOzone5 Glide rockets.”

“Oh.”

I knew little.

Arnold came walking up to us carrying a bag.

“We’re not going,” I said.

“We’re not?”

“Please excuse me for not informing you earlier, Chief Mate Arnold. I—”

“Don’t worry, Lotus,” Arnold smiled. “I’d prefer not to go anyway. The plane ride would have been fun though.”

Lotus said, pointing to the office, “We will be able to view everything at once from the new screen, Chief Mate Arnold.”

I was excited again.

“Really? I get to watch from the Captain’s chair?”

“Everything, Captain.”

The sound of a truck’s horn out front announced the beginning of group two’s imminent departure for Washington DC base 2. Captus was base one.

The truck driver ran away from the opening roller‑door on seeing Sentinel 2 marching out to greet him. One of two police officers escorting the truck driver to DC had to run after him and physically bring him back to do his job.

The driver soon found his nerve again and opened the back door of his truck. DC base 2 began quickly loading heavy cargo and then themselves.

Within fifteen minutes the driver was closing his back doors and, with the police escort, they drove away.

And so it went on for two hours, as truck after truck accepted their precious cargo.

DC, Paris, Salzburg, Moscow, Chengdu, Tokyo, Sydney and Honolulu.

I had a quick shower, then gave Lotus the relevant information to register Captus as a business.

I knew the stock market was closed for now, but Captus would reach Amazon figures within days if not hours once trading resumed. I wished.

I prepared for the occasion by showing Lotus a logo design I had sketched. She promptly had one of the robots make it from a strange rubbery material and had it stitched onto some flashy‑looking long‑sleeved silver top. A worthy effort for Captus, I thought. Ideas became reality around here quickly.

I walked over and gazed a moment at my Captain’s chair. I sat down and felt a different kind of tension for the first time. Lotus stood looking favourably at me from just right of screen.

Arnold also got into the spirit of things by dressing in a top that matched mine. His was dark green, which to his annoyance sparkled a little too much.

“Are you happy with what I am wearing, Captain?”

“I’m used to your look now, Lotus. Don’t change it.”

“But I do, Captain. I change every day. I have fourteen matching outfits, shoes, and glasses. And see?” She turned more front‑on to me. “I am also wearing the Captus logo now.”

“Well if you can’t beat them?” said Arnold, showing his. “It’s my new job now too, right?”

I smiled. “No one else could fill the second‑in‑command’s shoes better than you, Arnold. Right, Lotus?”

“Quite right, Captain,” agreed Lotus.

“Not even Spock?” smiled Arnold.

“Don’t push it, Arnold,” I smiled.

Billy started chattering from his cage. It was the first time he had since his arrival via drone earlier this morning.

“Captain!” said Lotus brightly.

I jumped.

“DC base 2 arriving at location. Trucks also shortly arriving at Andrews Air Force Base.”

“Thank you, Lotus. Do we have any images yet?”

The screen came on, cut up into as many squares as the Brady Bunch.

“All images you are seeing, Captain, are from the nine Sentinels. Seven of the screens are almost black, but that will end soon,” she reassured me in a voice that tailed off with certainty.

“Reading from left to right, Captain. Top left is Captus base one — that’s us. Top middle, DC base 2. Then Paris base 3. Salzburg base 4. Moscow base 5. Chengdu base 6. Tokyo base 7. Sydney base 8. Honolulu base 9.”

Lotus looked nonplussed to see me waving beside her.

“Hey Sentinel?” I shouted.

I looked down at Sentinel from the railing, who looked up at me in the office. I looked at the top‑left screen and saw myself waving back at myself.

“Great images, Lotus. You know, this top looks pretty good.”

Arnold came to stand beside me and checked himself out on the screen too.

“I don’t think my uniform twinkles as much as I thought,” decided Arnold. “I can live with it.”

I was startled as Arnold made a gesture of some sort with his hand. It looked outstanding to me.

“What was that?” I asked.

“What? The finger?”

“Yeah,” I smiled, as Arnold raised only his ring finger straight up by itself.

“Well if Spock can part his fingers, I’ve got my own little finger trick.”

I desperately tried to get my ring finger to stand straight by itself. I couldn’t do it. I was impressed.

We stopped playing about as Sentinel 2’s eyes showed us they had arrived as they emptied out of the truck.

“It doesn’t look so bright out there, Lotus?”

“Filters, Captain.”

The entrance was big enough for a jumbo jet to pass through as Sentinel momentarily looked its way. Now Sentinel 2 was back at the truck unloading cargo with the other main eight robots.

One crate Sentinel 2 placed down onto a large flatbed truck contained many CAP mini‑spots, another crate and at least fifty CAP drones. Men and women, all wearing glasses, helped by pushing trolleys inside.

Sentinel 2 stopped before a group of suits and military who pointed and discussed his body. CAP60‑2 leaned forward and handed one of the men a phone. I watched as the suit spoke without hearing his words.

I gave it a try.

“Volume on Sentinel 2, please, Lotus.”

“Volume on, Captain.”

“…and besides the lab having a ceiling height ten centimetres under the plan’s specifications, all other structures were precise.”

I watched as he listened and agreed with the other person on the phone.

“Who’s he talking to, Lotus?”

Lotus turned about and raised her left eyebrow.

“He’s talking to me, Captain.”

“When?” I pondered.

“Now, Captain. I am capable of many discussions simultaneously.”

Arnold quipped, “You’ll never know what she’s thinking when you look into those eyes,” he grinned.

“No… I guess not. What are you saying now?”

“Now I am explaining our thanks for all of their hard work and effort, Captain.”

I suddenly remembered Billy’s seed needed filling. On reaching it, I found his food and water full and his cage spotless, except for one or two new droppings.

“Well Billy,” I began. “Looks like my movie‑watching days are over.”

“Energize,” whistled Billy.

“Now it’s the real thing. No pretending anymore. We’re in our own sci‑fi world now. Captain of Captus. There’s a lot more responsibility than just looking after us.”

Billy looked at me.

“I don’t have a choice, Billy… maybe I do. Maybe we are Lotus’s property now. Hmmm. We’ll figure it out, little buddy… Maybe I should have called you Gilligan. Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale. A tale of a fateful trip… hmmm. Is this a fateful trip, Billy?”

Billy listened inherently.

I whistled, “That’s a good boy. Captus. Captus. Say Captus.”

Billy listened a few more times.

“Captus, Captus,” replied Billy, poorly.

“Not bad for a first crack,” I smiled. “That’s right, Billy. You’re up to date with it now.”

I left Billy and returned to my chair.

I checked my Doctor Who watch. 8 p.m. as the TARDIS flies.

I made a joke with Arnold about the Brady Bunch, asking him if we should refer to Sentinel as Marcia and DC base 2 as Mrs Brady. He shook his head in pity for me and went back to standing with his arms folded while gazing in wonder at the screen.

Out popped Sentinel 3 into the unforgiving light of Andrews Air Force Base. I stifled any reference to Greg Brady, much to Arnold’s relief, only pointing out the obvious events unfolding.

“Hey hey, will you look at that!” pointed out Arnold excitedly. “That’s a Globemaster III over to the right there!”

I didn’t bother interrupting Lotus as a suit received a phone from CAP60‑3.

Now all the screens were coming on as the robots unloaded and marched off towards their respective planes.

“There’s an Airbus A400 Atlas straight ahead of Sentinel 3,” explained Arnold.

“You know your planes, Arnold,” I said encouragingly.

“Thunderbirds are go!” said Arnold.

“I like that. Did you used to watch it?”

“In darker days. But I never watched too much television, Tim.”

I knew he hadn’t.

Arnold kept his gaze on the screen, saying, “It was just about all I did back at my place — read about planes. Their specifications, engines, load capacity. When the lights go out on take‑off, I’ll be really understanding the position of those various planes, see?”

I did see.

Arnold watched the planes. I watched DC.

The pace of the robots was mind‑boggling. Building began straight away after Sentinel 2 had placed four crane robots into their allotted positions. Each crane must have weighed over a tonne, I calculated.

Sentinel 2 stayed with the heavy production, but now and again, I got good shots of the labs and smaller production lines all assembled in an arch around the central location.

I got dizzy occasionally, but I knew a thing or two about flicking channels on the screen.

I watched on.

Seven of the screens were dark like before, as the various teams headed to their destinations at 50,000 feet.

I liked Alice, as Sentinel 5 sat within the plane with the other robots.

Protests in the kitchen meant Arnold was having a squabble with Malcolm about a glass of milk. Arnold wanted to make his own drink this time, but Malcolm the robot — though still being respectful — was overly insistent on pouring the milk.

Eventually Arnold pushed Malcolm playfully away.

To our astonishment, Malcolm raised his hand quickly to acknowledge his belated acceptance and clipped Arnold’s small finger. I could see it hurt.

“Did you see that, Lotus?”

“What, Captain?”

“Damn that smarts,” complained Arnold, in good spirits.

I explained what had happened to Arnold.

Before Malcolm the robot reached the door handle to leave at the far end of the room, he collapsed as if shot.

Arnold and I looked at one another. With some foreboding, I saw the pain in Arnold’s face mirror mine.

I turned quickly to Lotus.

“Did that make you angry, Lotus?” I asked.

“Not at all, Captain.”

Lotus walked over and apologised sincerely to Arnold, who showed Lotus more shock at the demise of Malcolm the robot than his sore finger.

“Lotus,” said Arnold. “It was an accident. I’m fine.”

“I made a mistake with his programming, Chief Mate Arnold. There should not have been any debate in the first place.”

“Yes yes. Alright, that’s fine,” nodded Arnold. “Bring him back. That’s an order.”

I knew Arnold had unresolved issues from his past too, and this set of events chilled him to the bone.

Lotus turned to see my reaction to Arnold’s request. I returned a slow nod.

Lotus turned about.

Malcolm the robot sprang into life.

“Is there anything you require, Chief Mate Arnold?” asked Malcolm.

“No thanks,” relaxed Arnold.

To everyone’s repose, Malcolm the robot turned and left the room.

Arnold and I were tired, so after some discussion, we decided the best thing to do was get some shut‑eye while the planes were in the air.

Lotus gave us a nod and wished us sweet dreams.

If she had understood Arnold’s reaction at the moment, I did not know.

 

⭐ CHAPTER TWELVE

On waking, I decided to go for a stroll downstairs to the production line to the left of the main roller door.

I stood blurry‑eyed with coffee in hand as thousands of glasses rolled along a conveyor belt. I watched as they passed through a hole in the wall to dispatch on the other side.

Here I found a large robotic arm lifting a box filled with five thousand glasses onto a roller that went over to where an autonomous van was waiting on its final box before departing. Atlantis closed the door and the long‑wheelbase van drove away.

Immediately, another identical empty van took its place and the process started again.

This had been going on since I had arrived and at near 24 hours at a hundred boxes an hour, containing five thousand glasses — nearly twelve and a half million glasses had already hit the streets.

I sipped my latte.

Figures. Balances. Goodwill aside, the future looked skyrockets.

The material was being supplied by the government. For now. Lotus would not agree to any terms without my input.

I jumped as Sentinel said, “Hello Captain,” as he passed by.

“Hello Sentinel… Hey Sentinel?”

He stopped and came around without fuss and listened.

“Where are all the glasses sent?”

“Distribution.”

Then, as an afterthought, Sentinel added, “They’re arriving all over the world now. We can’t make enough, so a second machine was built to meet demand.”

“When?”

Sentinel looked down at the conveyor belt as the flow of glasses multiplied by two. Now they were crammed together and passed like a wave to crash onto the shoreline of sorting‑tray island.

“Now, Captain.”

The four sorting robots simply became eight, as the wave of glasses gathered like salmon in a stream.

Back up on the bridge, Arnold was now up and sitting in my chair. He made an effort to move but I dismissed it.

“There are a couple down now. Paris and Honolulu have just landed,” grinned Arnold.

I focused on the new screens as spotlights lit the teams on the tarmac.

My alarm clock went off, filling the area with the Star Wars theme.

I stretched my arms out.

Could life get any better? I doubted it.

DC was taking shape. The factory was well lit. It was easy to see that the arch had now been rotated and was nearing completion as a circle — a big white hard‑plastic‑looking design.

“It is progressing well, Captain. I have calculated that the ozone layer has been depleted by fifty percent and that it will be closer to thirty within a week at launch. By then the TSOzone5 Glide Rockets will be in place and within three days we will be seeing an increase of one to five percent a day in returned levels.”

“That’s good news,” smiled Arnold.

We were interrupted by Sentinel, who informed us from top left of the screen that several reporters had invaded the factory and were asking to speak with Lotus.

“I will talk with them, Captain.”

I was unsure.

“Well maybe. But we don’t need people just wandering in here en masse after some reporter finishes his story by informing the country of our address.”

“There probably wouldn’t be too many folks just sitting at home watching TV,” suggested Arnold.

“Don’t bet on it, Arnold. As we speak the authorities are raiding house after house informing everyone we’re back. So give us a call if you need us while you’re relaxing in front of the TV soaking up story after story about Lotus and how to be good little citizens. And we know a lot are far from that.”

“In a way I hope you’re right.”

“Well, yeah, I see your point,” I agreed.

Lotus looked unconcerned and continued her vigil.

The door opened and in walked CAP60 leading three reporters our way. They were filming everything and seemed almost desperate in their quest to uncover the story.

I shot out of my chair and met them halfway.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” I began, unfairly summing up the two women and one man as anything but easy‑going.

They greeted us pleasantly enough as the cogs started turning.

“Are you Lotus?” asked the man.

“You’re a robot, right?” said one of the women.

“Now just hold on!” said Arnold firmly. “You don’t just march in here and start asking questions without introducing yourselves. I’m sure Lotus will answer some of your questions, but let’s start off on the right foot. Okay?”

The man was around my height of six‑foot‑one, but alongside CAP60’s height of eight feet, he looked small.

All three agreed and introduced themselves and their respective media outlets: CNN, FOX, and a website reporter from Unexplained Mysteries.

“I was given your address by Mary Jones,” explained Deborah from CNN.

“Same,” said Mia from FOX.

“Figures. What about you?” I asked the man who was busy looking at the screen.

“Is that Greg Brady?” he laughed. “Oh, me? Well, I followed the glasses trail from the distribution centre. Have they begun building those ozone machines? Is that what those screens are showing, Captain?”

I nodded.

Lotus began to explain in great detail about the events on the screen. They asked a lot of questions which Lotus happily answered. If they understood half of what Lotus said, I would have been surprised.

I went to the kitchen and fixed a coffee, having heard enough of their probing questions. Arnold, on the other hand, chipped in with information about the planes and their anticipated arrival times.

Halfway through my cuppa, it seemed John from Unexplained Mysteries had got what he wanted from the screen and was more intent on asking Lotus how, when, and why about herself.

I listened with interest again as Lotus described her journey from her awakening to the current moment.

I finished my coffee and was joined at the table by Malcolm the robot, who briskly whipped up three drinks to each visitor’s particular taste.

Eventually the subject came back to me. I gave generalisations about my past and pushed my model‑citizen angle from my banking days.

To my amazement, they seemed to love Lotus.

Eventually Deborah admitted that Lotus had safely landed a plane she had been on when the supernova struck and how terrified everyone was. The next day she found out nearly every single plane had been landed by a robot. She had personally made it her mission to find Lotus.

Deborah hugged Lotus and cried. Arnold passed her a handkerchief, and then it hit me too as I shed a tear. Everyone’s life on the line was heavy, man. And I for one was glad my second‑in‑command had normal emotions.

The reporters soon left after a short tour of the factory. They had promised to withhold Captus’s address from becoming public knowledge by requesting a live interview sometime later next week. My guess was that they needed to establish their listener base again first.

As the night rolled on, screen‑box after screen‑box became lit. Phone after phone was handed over and the same phenomenal efforts to save humanity forged ahead. It was also like watching the same show over and over again with a different cast.

I lay down on my bed looking at the ceiling as Lotus came to lay down beside me.

“I think I might go read for an hour,” said Arnold, beginning to leave the room.

“Yeah, oh, all right then,” I replied, very aware of Lotus’s sudden close proximity.

Lotus leaned on her forearms while studying me.

“Are you alright, Captain?”

“Yeah,” I acknowledged, meeting her gaze before staring at the ceiling once more.

Lotus placed her hand under my uniform top at the waist and slowly slid her fingers up to my chest.

“Do you mind me doing that, Captain?”

I swiveled about in the revelation that Lotus was about to tickle me. I hated being tickled.

She began, and at first she let me push her away while laughing. I tried to escape but she flung me back onto the bed and tickled me while on top. There was nothing I could do but sweat and pretend I didn’t mind.

She must have weighed one hundred and sixty pounds. But she looked around one‑ten.

She whispered, “All these robots to manage. Captus to run. A torrent of information flowing within me, and all I really want…” — she surrendered her truth — “is for you to kiss me, Captain.”

What could I do? I had to save the world.

She leaned down and kissed me.

I found Lotus’s rising passion more than a match. There was no way out.

At first she rolled onto her back as I popped up like a cork out of water. Her strength could snap me in half, so I had to be careful. She felt remarkable. Her skin was softer than silk. She sighed with increasing intensity.

There was a deep longing in her movements, a flow of colours and energy connected. A key had been turned inside her, as certainty increased in her desire to play with me.

My mind raced in panic as she pretended to ride me like a horse. Even the winning jockey of the Grand National would have gasped at her speed and endurance.

Her superhuman intellect, compassion, reckless pursuit, drive.

She moved faster now. So fast she became a blur to me.

Once or twice I feared she may permanently injure me — her strength startling, her knowledge vast but unexperienced. I dared not move.

She played a certain type of fun during our interaction. I held my breath.

When the moment was reached we celebrated with one big kiss.

I was still alive.

I needed a coffee.

Her energy awakened and presented an admittance of discovery by an expulsion of a single:

“Ah!!!!”

Then, slowly and delicately, she looked different. Like rain having saved the flower. The Lotus rose from the mud and settled its perfect uniformity over me, as the perky petals of her body, having been cleaned by the dripping rain of life’s pure and simple pleasure, rested in the satisfaction that she was complete.

I needed ice.

We lay gripped together still inside her pretend horse ride. There were imperfections I noticed — faint lines which gave it away. I had no idea what lay ahead of us.

Nevertheless our union was mutual. My previous dismissals of allowing any fake intimacy between us had been misplaced. She got what she wanted. I was a pushover.

This time.

My next thought was anything but simple: did she want children? Did I need body armour?

“Lotus,” I whispered, with relief.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Do you love me?”

“I have read of love,” she said. “A poem… Love is like a seasoned pond, that needs to be renewed. By rain that falls and flows and knows, seasons return, renewed.”

“That’s lovely,” I smiled.

“To be able to continue, it must grow, loyal, through good and toil. Eventually love fills the fears, old, but wealth of wise watermarks hold the years. Yes, I love you, Captain. Do you love me?”

I did. In a certain way. She was super dangerous and we needed to talk.

“Yes. But… I am mortal,” I explained. “Once I die,” I said, stroking her cheek, “you could love again.”

“If a pine tree grew and shed its seeds so that a mighty forest flourished underneath, when fires wiped out all except that tree, could you go on without me?”

“Strength would grow, as new trees basked in their existence around that tree, would last,” I parried.

Lotus looked at me softly.

“I told you I would need to tell you something. Do you remember, Captain?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Once the solar winds of the supernova weaken, my power and I will die.”

I sat up, upset. “Are you sure?”

“I will no longer be able to flow amongst the fading winds of the solar star Zaron. For there will not be enough energy to continue. It will pass and with its passing, I will wither and die.

“However… I am inventing an eternal heart. A tiny pebble of nuclear fusion as my heart. As yet I am unsure if it will continue to live just like a Sun. Why not, I ask? Scale is irrelevant.”

I looked at Lotus and wondered. She dreamed on levels I knew not of.

“What about just you?” I asked. “Not super abilities. Just the essence of you. Could it live on?”

Lotus looked unsure.

“With all my knowledge, Captain, the truth is… I do not know just yet. Just like our union. I did not know.”

“Yes, we need to talk about that. Anyway… So if you do maintain the essence of how you are, we would stay together.”

“I would be simple and plain, if it happened at all.”

I smiled. “Let’s hope that is our future. I miss simple and plain. I would much prefer it if you only managed one conversation at a time anyway.”

I gave her a quick kiss.

I needed to use the bathroom.

When I came back, Lotus was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Are you alright?” I asked affectionately.

“Are you serious, Captain? Even if I could only maintain myself… would you want me?” asked Lotus, her eyes shining with need.

“Yes. I would,” I nodded.

We embraced.

“Right,” she smiled and jumped up. Her troubles lifted. “Once we have reversed the depletion of the ozone layer, will I continue to be required to save humanity, Captain?”

“Only if you want to.” I looked at the screen as two more bases were now actively setting up. “I’m sure the world will continue on without our help. Maybe our biggest task would be to hide from the wrong powers at play. But I can’t tell the future. Still, I would put half my shares on it. If you are still some kind of Robotwoman, they’ll want to control you.”

 

⭐ CHAPTER THIRTEEN

And so the days passed.

All eight TSOzone5 Glide Rockets were completed. Communities had regained some order, and those who had inflicted heinous crimes by subjection were being hunted down and brought to trial. A special law had been passed which disallowed the perpetrators of slavery to claim insanity by natural causes.

The major networks were back in full swing, subjecting those who turned on the channel to endless stories of pain and endurance — of which we all knew all too well. It seemed just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did, as horror story after horror story told us too much.

Except for the noticeable fact that nearly everyone covered their whole bodies to avoid the high radiation levels, people returned to work just like before. New radiation‑free foods popped up all over food shelves. Companies reaped financial reward by inventing anything that promised safe food or water.

One of the three big topics trending around the world at the moment was Lotus. Her feats of rescue and unselfishness as Robotwoman (as the stations liked to call her) were legendary. There were dozens of proposals of marriage too. There were limitless advocates championing their newfound saviour. Kids talked on television as if Lotus was the greatest superhero of all time.

Show anchors Deborah and Mia’s network stations outdid themselves with constant advertising of the upcoming:

“Look — Live Interview with Robotwoman — This Week!”

I myself had been personally interviewing Lotus every night this week, as we lay in bed before I slept. Of course Lotus would close her eyes once I couldn’t keep mine open any longer, but as far as I knew she did not sleep.

I sat at the kitchen table waking up with my now‑usual latte from my usual chef‑slash‑barista, Malcolm the robot. Malcolm had become altogether quieter after Lotus’s reprogramming.

My girlfriend, Lotus — it sounds funny to call her my girlfriend, but that’s what she had become — sat in the captain’s chair, communicating with her teams.

Arnold came into the room like clockwork. Bang on midday he came through that door. It was his style. Another reassuring quality to his character.

“Good morning, Arnold,” greeted Malcolm the robot.

Arnold gave a nod and accepted his Vienna coffee with a smile.

“The big day has arrived,” grinned Arnold.

‘Bigger than Ben Hur,’ I agreed. ‘Eight gleaming chariots in a race against time,’ suggested Arnold, still transfixed at the sight of the forty‑metre‑wide white circles out in the open waiting for lift‑off.

The world watched. Even UFO Monthly included in its headline: “The biggest internet and television audience of all time.”

World leaders rallied their countrymen and women to watch this historic event.

I always flinched uncomfortably when a picture of me appeared on the screen, smiling like an idiot with the usual side‑by‑side photos of Harrison Ford. I’d been fascinated and bewildered to see a documentary about me. Half was true; the other half had more speculation than Spock could ponder.

It was suggested by one so‑called expert on a porch at midnight in the deep south that I had built Lotus by my own hand — and the eight TSOzone5 machines. Holy hole in a donut, I thought.

‘Did you sleep alright?’ asked Arnold. ‘Yeah,’ I stretched. ‘And you?’ ‘I woke up after a dream I had.’ ‘What was the dream?’ I encouraged.

Arnold sniffed. ‘Well…’ He took a sip of coffee. ‘Ah…’ he savoured. ‘I was walking in the rain on a wide bitumen driveway that led to my house. I was meant to play for a show and I’d forgotten to practise my guitar, so I was hurrying to pick it up. Suddenly the bitumen turned into a stream. I tried to back out as the water rose and carried me out into deep water near the street. I raised my arm to a young woman to signal my distress. She quickly gathered eight young people who made a chain gang into the water,’ I nodded, ‘and they pulled me in. A young woman I rescued in the surf once was one of those people.’

‘Eight… like the Glide Rockets?’ I pointed. Arnold shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Captain?’ ‘Yes, honey,’ I answered, fighting back the urge to correct myself in front of Arnold. ‘I am ready to commence countdown, Captain.’

Arnold and I picked up our cups and hurried over. I noticed the funny look he gave me. Lotus had already vacated the chair, so I sat like a creature of habit.

‘Did Sydney take down those power lines?’ ‘Yes, Captain,’ she answered. ‘Are the wind speeds compatible?’ ‘Yes, Captain. All launch sites are under the 100 mph initial limit.’ ‘No aircraft in the lift‑off zones?’ asked Arnold. ‘There are no aircraft in the air at present which may cause a problem, Chief Mate Arnold.’

Lotus generously turned to face me and smiled with her lips. ‘Awaiting your command, Captain.’

I looked at Arnold. ‘Let’s get this show on the road, hey?’ he said. ‘Yep,’ I agreed.

‘Authorities informed,’ explained Lotus. ‘Commence one‑minute countdown, hon… Lotus.’

‘T minus 60, 59, 58, 57, 56…’

We listened with anticipation as they crossed over to Washington DC for live pictures. The world watched and waited.

I watched as a blue‑coloured ring appeared around the inner circle of the Glide Rockets; some images faint in the light, others fluorescent blue in the dark. Now the main circle became bright white.

‘…10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… Zero!’

We watched as all eight TSOzone5s went up at once. They appeared to be spinning and increased rotation as they went. We did not speak for ten minutes as the Glide Rockets disappeared toward the ozone layer, on all eight boxed screens like smoke rings offered to the gods.

‘And now we wait?’ asked Arnold. ‘Once in position, the TSOzone5s will whirlpool the currents through its process of repletion. We will see a rise in ozone levels within three days.’

But we didn’t.

Patience turned to disappointment. After the third day, disappointment turned to annoyance. After the fifth day, annoyance turned to rumour. After the eighth day, rumour turned to anger. After the tenth day, anger turned to attack.

On the twelfth day, the interviews went badly. Instead of the rejoicing we had originally looked forward to, it became a constant barrage of:

“When will the ozone levels rise?” “Doesn’t it work?” “How did you get it so wrong?” “But mankind is suffering!” “I guess you did your best?”

We left being made to look like criminals. There was no sympathy, except from Arnold, who said we did a great job explaining the complexities of the mission.

Two weeks had passed now and still the ozone layer plummeted to nearly twenty‑five percent of its original level before the supernova. Lotus, for the first time, was confronted by the failure of theory.

The long unhappy day dragged on. I felt miserable as I finally began to fall asleep.

They did it with paper. No electronic devices were used in case we obtained warning of the imminent attack. As we slept, every base that constructed the TSOzone5s became surrounded by state‑of‑the‑art weaponry.

Lotus surrendered her teams without a fight. Arnold had to convince me it was the only way — it was understandable.

They broke into Captus by the rooftop, pulling me and Arnold from our beds to be locked into handcuffs. Lotus was forced to watch as Balentien had armed guards with their fingers on the triggers at the throats of Arnold and me.

I wondered if Arnold still thought it was the only way.

‘Don’t move, Lotus,’ insisted Balentien. ‘My men will kill them if I say the word. You’re coming with us.’

There was nothing she could do.

‘I have misjudged mankind, it seems,’ sighed Lotus, statue‑like by the screen. ‘Such brutality against those who only serve to help.’

‘So get used to it,’ snapped Balentien. ‘We have no way of knowing what you’re capable of, and mankind isn’t going to risk our destruction because of the folly of a robot.’

‘She’s the only hope we’ve got,’ insisted Arnold. ‘The folly is on your part.’

‘Well, Mr Walker, doesn’t seem her help is what the world expected now, is it? Should we give it a few more days? Weeks? YEARS?’

‘So now what?’ I foolishly asked.

‘You are under arrest, Mr Clark. I knew it.’ ‘What for?’ I demanded. ‘That you and Captus knowingly made fraudulent claims to the Council of 10 and the United States Government. Get them outta here!’ demanded Balentien.

‘Wait!’ pleaded Lotus. ‘He is my Captain. We saved the world,’ her anger grew. ‘Millions of lives saved from certain death!’

The room seemed to shake as the robots buzzed.

‘Your foolish, small‑minded governments know nothing WHATSOEVER of the complexities involved!’

Sentinel and CAP60 jumped up from below and crashed through the glass, heading toward Balentien.

‘NO!’ I begged. ‘STOP!’

No one moved.

Lotus said calmly, ‘If you kill the Captain, I will reconsider my allegiance to humanity.’

There was a long pause as we all thought that one through.

‘Don’t stuff it up now, Balentien,’ I sneered. ‘Oh shit,’ whispered Arnold.

Anger rose all over Balentien’s face. He drew his pistol and pulled the trigger in rage.

Lotus moved so fast it seemed she already appeared out of harm’s way by the time Balentien pulled the trigger. Sentinel stood in the line of fire. Lotus jumped, then CAP60, then Sentinel.

A dozen Gorilla troopers raced to open fire. They were gone.

Arnold and I were driven away in an older car with no computer components. Balentien looked at me with anger.

‘No escaping this time, Mr Clark.’

I said nothing except, ‘Don’t kill Lotus.’

‘Oh, that’s not up to me, Mr Clark. I’m just following orders.’

‘You’re a fool, Balentien. Or maybe you’re just following orders from a bigger fool,’ I grumbled.

He slapped me hard.

The car containing Arnold and me drove through the gates of a military compound somewhere near DC. The Gorilla troopers once again pushed and shoved us along. It only stopped once we were in individual jail cells some distance apart.

I no longer felt miserable — I felt bitter. How could we be treated so badly after all we had done? We obviously hadn’t done enough.

‘This is nuts!’ I said out loud.

‘Shut up, you idiot!’ demanded one of the troopers.

He came into the cell with another meaner, shorter, wider, bearded offsider, and they beat me. The punches were not bone‑breakers, just meant to bruise. Nothing on the face. It hurt, and I felt terrible as they locked themselves outside again.

I had had a couple of chances to lash out, but this time I decided it was not the moment to fight back. Arnold and I were in big trouble, and what made me feel even worse was that the bearded Gorilla trooper had stolen my Doctor Who wristwatch and wore it to annoy me.

Plus, I was the bait.

For two days, as far as I could tell, we fermented into vinegar. The troopers came and went at the same bat‑time. They watched me while I used the open toilet. I could hear nothing except the sound of a ticking clock in the hallway, halfway between Arnold and myself.

Balentien would visit every now and again. He never talked to me. Just more of the silent treatment. He only walked up to the bars to check on me, then left.

I felt terrible. From hero to zero in fourteen days. I started to believe I would rot in here for months. But it wasn’t just me — it was Arnold, and Billy’s seed would be all but empty soon.

My chance came, by chance.

As the Gorilla troopers rotated shifts, I noticed that the youngest‑looking one secretly texted his girlfriend behind the others’ backs; the cheeky monkey. I watched him without drawing attention. I needed him to use his phone, but every time he did, it was a quick text reply.

The next day Arnold lost it — and lucky he did. For as the two Gorilla troopers marched off to beat Arnold, they ordered the younger trooper to keep an eye on me.

I did not dare look directly at the trooper, but I listened intently, waiting for his voice to speak. The beating began, but not before Arnold had managed to land one or two chops himself.

Then it happened.

The trooper said, ‘I can’t talk right now, babe…’

‘Captain’s Log!’ I shouted clearly.

‘Hey! Hey hey! Shut the hell up!’ demanded the young trooper, switching off his phone. ‘Shut the hell up!’

That night I couldn’t sleep. Not because of the bright light that lit my cell, but because of my anxiety for Lotus and our future. I needed beaming up, Scotty, ages ago.

Arnold was sleeping. I had not heard him snore before and wondered if it was on account of his beating.

The three Gorilla troopers sat together with their backs to the wall. From my hard bed I lay looking at the ceiling.

An almighty CRASH erupted in front of me as Sentinel smashed his way inside with one punch.

Clobbering time had arrived.

The dust began to settle, revealing rubble which the three Gorilla troopers now lay amongst.

Lotus ran forward and we held each other’s hands through the bars and gave one another one quick kiss.

Damn. I loved a robot. I needed help.

‘Good morning, Captain!’ ‘Good morning, Lotus. I hoped you might be listening?’

She gave a nod.

Lotus quickly moved her hand back, ripping off a bar, as Sentinel advanced to rip away the jail‑cell door like paper.

‘What’s going on down there?’ shouted Arnold.

CAP60 came through the hole in the wall and made his way along in a crouched position to Arnold. I now realised Sentinel was too large to enter the hallway.

I watched as CAP60 pulled the bars back, and my good friend Arnold appeared in good spirits.

‘What the hell are we going to do now?’ asked Arnold, giving both guards who beat him a kick each.

‘Follow me!’ said Lotus, making her way back out over the rubble.

‘Wait!’ I said. ‘That poor trooper!’ I pointed.

They stood and wondered.

‘He stole my Doctor Who watch!’

I removed it and let his limp arm fall back into the dusty rubble.

Outside we gathered on a walkway that ran along the building’s edge. Fifty feet below, a transport helicopter that Arnold explained was a Mil Mi‑26 awaited.

‘How do we get down there?’ I asked.

Without warning, Sentinel picked me up and jumped.

‘Oh, shit…!’ I braced myself.

We landed. A little sore, but all in one piece.

I watched as Lotus jumped, landed in a squat, stood up, and entered the helicopter. Arnold came down with CAP60, who seemed to handle the jump most effectively.

Just before we lifted off, fifty armed Gorilla troopers led by Balentien rushed forward and stopped two hundred feet away to our right. They levelled their guns at us. I could tell they intended to shoot if we became airborne.

Lotus pushed the revs and up we went.

‘We don’t have to die this way!’ shouted Arnold. ‘We won’t!’ shouted Lotus.

The helicopter’s motors surged and we quickly climbed.

‘How do you know?’ I shuddered.

A conversation came over the speakers.

‘That’s right, Commander Balentien. Let them go. Orders from the Council of 10 and the President.’ ‘Why?’ shouted Balentien with fury into his phone. ‘Because… the ozone machines are working. I repeat, the ozone machines are working!’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN 

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ smiled Deborah. ‘Welcome back. Our next guests need, well, no introduction. But they’re getting it anyway,’ she relished.

The huge live crowd roared with delight.

‘These folks have single‑handedly saved half of humanity. And if you’re the only person on Earth that doesn’t know three of them are robots… you do now!’

The audience laughed.

‘Please welcome the team from Captus!’

The audience screamed even louder as Lotus, Arnold, Sentinel, CAP60, and myself slowly walked out to a hero’s welcome.

Zero to hero; again.

Lotus sat closest to Deborah’s chair, then me, then Arnold, while Sentinel and CAP60 stood behind us.

Arnold stood up and clasped his hands together, shaking them rapidly like a boxing champ. The crowd screamed.

I jumped up and, in a prearranged skit, ran forward to be chased by Sentinel and CAP60. I hit them both once and down they tumbled, falling on top of each other. The audience screamed with delight. I made mocking phaser movements in no particular direction and finally, with Arnold’s encouragement, sat down.

‘Welcome back, welcome back guys!’ greeted Deborah, letting the moment hang.

‘Thank you,’ smiled Lotus. ‘It’s great to be here,’ grinned Arnold. ‘Hello,’ chipped in Sentinel.

This caused Deborah to scream — and half the audience with her.

‘I did not know he could talk?’ admitted Deborah. ‘I did not know he could talk?’

‘Oh, he can talk alright,’ I advised.

‘Hello and wow! What is your name, big fella?’

‘Sentinel… the original.’

Deborah looked straight down the camera lens with her eyes wide with excitement and said, ‘That figures.’

They laughed.

‘Now Lotus,’ said Deborah, touching her knee. ‘I owe you a big apology.’

Some members of the audience uncomfortably clapped.

‘Well not just me… right guys?’ she asked the audience, who replied with thunderous applause.

‘Okay, okay, so Lotus — you did it, girl. That must feel good?’

‘It has been very troubling, Deborah, to see that my original estimations were so erroneous. I think it has caused stress and heartache for everyone. It seems that all eight TSOzone5s are functioning beautifully at near maximum output now and—’

Deborah interrupted. ‘Thirty‑eight percent now? No? My producer’s saying it’s reached thirty‑nine percent.’

‘Yes, and that too is above my previous calculations. We are now preparing to build our next project, which is aimed at protecting ourselves, our food crops, animals, and marine animals already exposed to unhealthy radiation amounts. The ozone machines are doing their job, but there are critical radiation levels to bring under control, and that is Captus’s next venture.’

The audience applauded.

‘Would you like to see a little party trick?’ asked Lotus.

‘Oh wow,’ she laughed. ‘Of course. Yes please.’

‘Right. Everybody get your phones out and switch them on,’ began Lotus.

All four hundred phones began to ring at once. The crowd laughed as they answered them and spoke to Lotus.

Once things settled down, Deborah turned to me.

‘Captain Tim Clark. Sir…’ she said. ‘There’s a rumour going around the studio that you were seen “kissing”—’ (Deborah made the inverted commas with her fingers) ‘—Lotus?’

The audience screamed as I leaned over and kissed Lotus. Not a peck, but not much more. What else could I do?

I said, ‘You can’t believe in rumours, Deborah.’

Deborah waited.

‘Yes,’ I said quietly. ‘Lotus and I are in a relationship.’

‘A physical one?’ gasped Deborah.

I nodded. ‘And it’s respectful, caring, passionate, and dangerous.’

More wild applause.

‘And yeah.’

‘Okay… the rumours are true. Well, we cannot let you go without saying hello to Arnold.’

The crowd clapped.

‘Thank you, Ma’am,’ grinned Arnold.

‘You are a Vietnam veteran, correct?’

‘Yes Ma’am. I’m seventy‑five today. Not my birthday… I was a chopper pilot back then. It was a crazy war and I saw a lot of brave men not make it back home.’

The audience went silent.

‘Even though this hasn’t been a man‑made war, it has felt like war. I’m sure there’s not one person in this audience who hasn’t been living in fear or lost a loved one, or has experienced what it is like to be blind for days or weeks… This unlikely hero here — we’ll just refer to him as the Captain—’

There was some applause.

‘He saved my life. Averted a nuclear war, and I don’t think we would have survived that. The Captain and Lotus here are a blessing from God.’

‘Amen,’ smiled Deborah — and half the audience.

Arnold continued.

‘You know, Deborah, last time we were on your show things weren’t going so well. You were upset, the audience was upset, and so were we all.’ Arnold pointed. ‘But… we came through.’ Arnold raised a fist in triumph. ‘Captus came through!’

The audience cheered. They needed to be happy.

‘Beautiful, remarkable, superhuman. Ladies and gentlemen, please thank once again… oh, we owe you guys so much. The team from Captus!’

We shook hands and walked off — not before we were surrounded by people young and old wanting to shake our hands or simply marvel at Sentinel and CAP60.

We arrived at the White House under spotlights. Lotus, Arnold and I stood on the front lawn with the President, Mary Jones, and Senator McQueen. We answered the usual questions from a distance, then listened as Mary Jones and then the President gave short speeches about the continuing rise of the ozone level, which had now reached forty‑five percent.

We waved goodbye and went inside.

Balentien, I noticed, stood inside the grand room where we met the heads of, among others: Microsoft, Amazon, Google, NASA, SpaceX, and Virgin Galactic. I trusted none of them.

After the preceding twenty‑four hours — tonight’s meet‑and‑greets — I felt like we had managed to engage the hyperdrive motivator in the nick of time from the clutches of evil.

A pianist played a tune up on a rise just beyond Lotus, who was surrounded by admirers. The room was wonderful. The chandeliers, soft and deep, hung high over plush red curtains which gently touched the marble floor.

I knew the music score: You’ll Never Know How Much I Love You by Harry Warren. It was a song my wife and I had danced to one romantic night long ago, when all my Sci‑Fi days did not exist.

Lotus looked beautiful to me. Her electric‑blue eye captivated the devoted listener, while her charming chocolate‑coloured eye soothed my heart. Lotus turned around and smiled at me from across the room.

Would I marry my robot‑woman? I thought yes. Why not.

Well, there were a million voices against it. Could I vouch for all robots? No. But Lotus was different.

I was also wondering… would she live much longer?

‘What are you thinking, Captain?’ smiled Lotus, who had excused herself to be with me.

‘Yes.’

Lotus looked unsure. ‘About what?’

‘That I would marry you.’

Lotus looked thrilled, to my relief. She threw her arms over my shoulders. ‘Okay, I’m ready!’

‘Lotus, would you be my wife?’

‘I would like that very much, Captain.’

 

EPILOGUE

Things went from good to great, and long may that last.

Arnold got invited to airfields around the world, where he got to co‑pilot the planes he had previously only dreamed about. He still lived at Captus as my second‑in‑command, with the official title of Flight Commander of all future Captus spacecraft.

All eight teams of robots were released back to Captus and were now busy building the next generation of radiation‑removal robots — CAP‑R’s for short.

I watched Lotus walk down the aisle with the rest of the world. The theme from Star Wars rang throughout the congregation as Lotus looked dazzling, dressed as the imperial princess she was. The atmosphere was electric.

I invited Sci‑Fi fans from all over the world. Everything from Lost in Space to Galaxy Quest. There were characters in costumes of everything I thought possible. It was a celebration of everything Sci‑Fi — a union of intergalactic proportions.

The media called it the wedding of discovery. It was attended by all the leaders of the Council of 10, CAP60, and a dozen other deliriously happy robots. I even invited all the stars from the Sci‑Fi shows I loved. Would you believe most accepted?

Arnold was my best man, and Sentinel gave Lotus away.

I had decided to make just one more lady happy.

And as for Tim Clark, that Sci‑Fi dreamer? I was a dreamer no more.

The End.

First published as SUPERNOVA, in November 2018

I hope you liked Lotus — the accessor of unlimited knowledge — and Tim. Please leave a 5‑star rating or review to encourage me to write a second story. BELOW IS THE TITLE SONG CREATED FOR THE BOOK YOU HAVE JUST READ. IT IS FROM THE LAST CHAPTER OF THE AUDIO BOOK.