Matthew had shot down his fiftieth alien spacecraft when he finally decided that he was wasting his time. He took his hands from the joystick just as another alien craft dived out from behind an asteroid. The alien craft began firing laser bolts at him and his ship blew up.
“Shit,” he muttered as the game ended.
Matthew Hall was sitting in his lab in the MedTec building in Salford Quays. It was the middle of the night and the lab was in darkness. Only the screen of his monitor cast any light in the room at all.
The usually bright laboratory he worked in most of the day and night was in a large and similarly bright building which overlooked what used to be the Manchester Docks, but was now a marina basin. The whole area had been reclaimed and rebuilt several years ago. The original harbour basin was now surrounded by office buildings on one side, and residential apartments on the other. Matthew lived in one of those apartments. He could see it now as he gazed out the large window by his desk.
Yes, this was boring, he thought to himself again, and sighed.
He had been waiting for three months now. All this powerful computer equipment was just sitting here, waiting to be used, and all he could do with it was play games. It just wasn’t fair.
Everything was ready. The new circuit chips he had designed were fully tested and working, the software had been de-bugged as much as possible without being tested in actual working conditions, and even the implant was fully tested and operational. Everything had been simulated, emulated and de-bugged to death. On paper, in theory, everything was ready and would work. But without a field test, without trying everything out for real, it was all worthless. Just theories, ideas, fantasies.
But Matthew knew it would work, he just knew it.
He thought back to those early days, when all this had first started. He had been so lucky. Getting a large company to sponsor you during your Phd was no easy task, but MedTec had been marvellous. Matthew had written to several companies, and all of them had pooh-poohed his theories as being silly and too costly. Only Medical Technology (UK) Ltd had shown any real interest. And when Benjamin Watkins, their Head of Research, had agreed to see him, Matthew had been tremendously excited.
Ben had been very friendly and positive. He had agreed to back Matthew all the way on his research, to fund everything, and he had been true to his word. It had taken two years so far, and not once had Ben even faltered in his support. Under his authority, MedTec had provided Matthew with these facilities in their Manchester offices, they had equipped it with the computer system and software he had requested, and they had even produced the circuit chips he had specified. They had done everything he wanted, without hesitation or complaint. Matthew couldn’t dream of a better sponsor.
There was a down side, of course. In return for their generous and heavy investment, MedTec wanted the rights to market and sell his idea if it worked. That didn’t trouble Matthew too much. He now considered Ben to be his best friend, he trusted him. Anyway, what did he know about marketing and sales? He was interested in the research itself, in his project. That was what counted. If it worked, the benefits would be tremendous, incredible.
It had to work. It would work, Matthew knew it would. But without a field test, it was all just an expensive fantasy.
Matthew sighed again, and staring up at the ceiling he muttered, “Please, God, don’t hate me will you? But can you kill someone for me? Soon? Please?”