Read Timtown Page 20


  “Yeah, I’m ‘Number One’.”

  “Yo arrrre Tim, you arre to ‘Number One’. It corrrreck.” The words were a little clearer and quicker.

  “Well, we’re getting closer here, I think?” Tim said loudly. Maybe the molecular scattering thing really did work? Tim thought at the same time.

  “You are the ‘Number One’. Dex twi whdat.”

  “Yes, I’m ‘Number One’, the rest I don’t understand.”

  “I co by foc ‘Number One’.”

  “Who are you?” Tim said loudly because he was getting frustrated.

  “Iya computa Number One. N—I—cea meeeete you Number One. I am Et. I am commmputerrr for Tim. You are Tim, you are ‘Number One’.”

  It sounds like someone just getting the hang of a strange language.

  “Okay, yeah, we’ve already gone over some of that, and ah, you are a computer, is that right?”

  “I aamm ccoommpuuteer yes.” The pronunciation was almost perfect, but it was slow and deliberate.

  “And you’re supposed to be the computer for the ‘Number One’?”

  “Yeess. You are the neew ‘Number One’?”

  “Yup, that’s me.” Tim let out a big sigh of relief. “Where the hell am I?”

  “This is the place of the Number One.” The new computer spoke slow and deliberate.

  “This is it?” Tim said with a squawk in his voice.

  “There is a new language present.” The vocabulary was correct, but the form was still blocky.

  “Yeah, it’s the only one I know.”

  “Is that possible?” the speech, and construction of the words were getting smoother.

  “Yeah, I’m just a dumb kid.”

  “You are the new ‘Number One’?”

  I think that was a question.

  “Yeah, and I’ll bet you’re surprised,” Tim snickered.

  “I don’t understand surprise. Can you—”

  “Can I what?”

  “Wait,” the new voice said.

  “Yeah, I guess, what are you doing?”

  There was nothing for ten-seconds.

  “I am still accessing the main computer. Please wait.” The new computer was getting the language real fast.

  Tim didn’t say anything, he just waited as instructed.

  “I am ready to talk to you now. I understand most of your language now.”

  “Hot-damn! Boy, I was wondering for a while there. I didn’t think I had gone to the right place. This isn’t much though.”

  “This is the place of the ‘Number One’; this is where you wanted to go.”

  “Yeah, but I expected a little more than this. This is like being in a damn blizzard.

  “It is not satisfactory?”

  “Uh, I don’t want to sound critical, but the old Number One sure didn’t have much of an imagination,” Tim said as he turned all the way around, surveying the entire scene.

  “The Number One did not keep it like this.”

  “Oh damn, I get it; this is just the jumping off place, or something. Phew, what a relief. I’m looking for the Secret Place.”

  “This is it.”

  “Here we go again,” Tim said frustrated. “What did the Number Ones do to this place, to make it livable?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Tim just dropped his head and shook it slowly. “And how come you don’t know? I thought you were his computer?”

  “Yes, I was, and I am yours now.”

  “Well, then, how come you don’t know anything?”

  “Because, I have no memory of any of the others,” the computer stated.

  “What?” Tim exclaimed. “How come?”

  “I do not record a Number One. When a Number One leaves, my memory banks are cleared.

  “Oh, and what have you been doing the last three million years?” Tim asked cynically with a snicker.

  “I have no concept of time.”

  “Well, let’s just forget that one, shall we? Do you have a name?”

  “Yes, I am the computer of the Num—”

  “Whoa, hold it, hold it right there. You don’t have a name?”

  “Not like you do.”

  “What was the Et thing?”

  “It would be difficult to explain, the Sooaunt language is not structured anything like yours. A location might be the closest explanation.”

  “So big deal, you are Et, is that okay?”

  “Like Mr. V,” Et returned.

  “Yeah, do you guys know each other?”

  “Yes, we communicated frequently, but not for the last three million years.”

  “I thought you didn’t have any concept of time?”

  “I do not.”

  “But, you just said you hadn’t spoken to Mr. V for three million years.”

  “That is what you said.”

  “Oh, yeah, right, whatever. I don’t need to go into that right now, okay? I want to know where the hell I am?”

  “This is the place of the Number One.”

  “I know that, but where is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I can’t go for that,” Tim said quickly.

  “Let me explain. You were told about the command sequence, and about Number One’s privileges, the complete secrecy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Number One can communicate with me in a place that is completely secret. This is that place. Whatever you and I discuss here, stays here. I am an extension of the central computer, Mr. V, but the extension is one way. Information can come in, but nothing goes out, understand.”

  “Yeah, I already knew that, but you and Mr. V brought me here so you must know where it is.”

  “You came yourself. I’m always here, and he’s always there, so I don’t go back and forth, so I don’t have to know where this is, because I am always here.”

  “That makes sense, sure enough does,” Tim laughed. “Does it have a name?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, how do you say, ‘secret place’, in Sooaunts?

  “Donnart-Ele-Io.”

  “I like it!” Tim exclaimed. “Now, how do I get back, is my next question?”

  “As simple as you came here. For now, why don’t you just enjoy your new place?”

  “But, there’s nothing here,” Tim complained.

  “It’s up to you to create what you want.”

  “Ah, now I get it. But I have no idea what I want right now, can I wait?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Does Arty know where I am?”

  “No, but he is looking. It will do him no good though; this is truly a secret place.”

  “Ha, at least now he’ll think about just taking over so easily.”

  “Is he not your brother, and why are you annoyed with his actions?”

  “I’m not sure; maybe I’m just over reacting.”

  “Don’t worry about, it will all work out. There are many new things for you to sort out,” Et instructed.

  “What do you know about me?” Tim was curious about the computer links.

  “Everything Mr. V knows.”

  “That quick?”

  “I accessed his memory banks, that is my job.”

  “I wish I could get at information that quick.”

  “You can,” Et said.

  “Oh, I forget so fast.”

  “That is not true.”

  “There’s so much I don’t know, and so much I can’t remember,” Tim joked.

  “Tim, every moment of your life, in every detail, is stored in your brain.”

  “Everything, every detail?”

  “The human brain can store immense amounts of information.”

  “I can’t remember everything, that’s impossible.”

  “It’s there. You just don’t know how to find it when you want it, that’s all. But, I guarantee you, it’s there.”

  “How could I remember everything I wanted to, when I wanted to?”

  “I could help you.”
/>
  “How?”

  “I can catalogue all your memories.”

  “All of them?”

  “Well, it would be difficult to pick and choose.”

  “How would you go about it?”

  “I simply have to have access all your thoughts.”

  “But then you would know everything, even what I was thinking at the moment.” Tim sounded unsure of the conversation.

  “That is correct.”

  “Ah, I’m not ready for that,” Tim stated, remembering how uncomfortable he had been when Mr. V could read his thoughts.

  “Yes, I understand. Why don’t you get busy creating a place for yourself here, so you can be comfortable?”

  “I don’t know what I’d like.”

  “If you’re not happy with what you decide, you can change it at any time.”

  “Ah, I’m not into it right now so let me think about it.”

  “It’s not going to be much fun standing here in the middle of nothing. What do you want to do?”

  “I want to go back. I was just curious about the molecular thing-a-ma-jig, and to see if the place really existed.”

  *

  The dissimilating sequence started the same as before and when he rematerialized back in the control chamber, he was surprised to see Arty still there. Arty was watching a hologram with a news cast from a TV station, summarizing what was going on Internationally.

  “Back so soon,” Arty said.

  “I wasn’t too impressed.”

  Arty went back to watching the TV broadcast.

  Tim watched also. Major geological disruptions were occurring all over the globe. Transportation and supply was in chaos, and many political upheavals were underway. It appeared anarchy was the mode of the day.

  “I can’t believe it,” Tim said with a sound of disgust in his voice.

  “Can’t believe what?” Arty returned.

  “Oh this shit!” Tim pointed to the TV telecast. “The world is in real trouble, and so many people are trying to take advantage of the situation. It really pisses me off. You’d think everyone would be smart enough to band together.”

  “Oh Timmy, so young, and so innocent,” Arty kind of laughed as he made the statement.

  “Well, dammit Arty, I know what you’re going to say, and I suppose, ‘no’, I know that you’d be right.

  I don’t know why the innocent comment set me off because I don’t feel innocent after my recent rampage.

  “Look, I know you’d like it to be different, but people behave like people. Some are good, and some are bad. It’s as simple as that. Besides, there are too many people anyway.”

  “What are you saying?” Tim sounded annoyed.

  “In my opinion, all this may be for the best,” Arty said in a flat tone.

  “Arty for Christ sakes, do you know what you just said?”

  “Yes, I’m well aware of my last statement, but I believe the world has come to a point where there are just too many people. I don’t think the Earth is capable of supporting any more, or even the numbers we have now.”

  “Geez Arty, you sound like you think this is just what we all needed.”

  “Quite possibly. Look at before the catastrophe, thirty-million people a year starving to death. Another four-billion live worse than dogs. I hate the thought of all the suffering out there. The point is that the survivors, and there will be survivors, will have a chance to make a much better world. The way I see it, millions and millions were going to die anyway,” Arty continued. “Now it’s going to be quick and merciful.”

  “What if we’re the only survivors? This little band here, safe and sound.”

  “Then it will be up to us to continue.”

  “How grand for us!” Tim snapped.

  “Look, just stop being so skeptical, will you. The only thing you can do is let things run their course, and if you happen to be in a good position, take advantage of it. You should be thankful, and not so be critical,” Arty lectured.

  “I guess you’re right, but the worse things get out there the more we’re isolated. I just hate the thought of being stuck in here while everything out there unravels.”

  “You’re not stuck in here. You can go anytime you please. Where did you go just now? You faded out and disappeared. You left Timtown, I know you did.”

  “How do you know I left?” Tim asked curiously.

  “Because you weren’t in here anymore. I do know how to ask Mr. V a simple question, and he says, ‘you left the base’. You went to a secret place. He says he doesn’t know where it is either, but I can’t quit believe that.”

  “It’s the truth, I don’t even know where it is,” Tim said smartly.

  “The place of the ‘Number One’,” Arty said with a curious tone in his voice. “It is an interesting concept they had. I wish I could see this place.”

  “That’s not possible, I’m the only person that can be transported there,” Tim said smugly.

  “I know that too, but, as I said, you can go whenever you like, so I don’t see why you should be complaining? If you get sick of it in here take your Sky-bike and take a trip. It’s got unlimited range.”

  “Yeah, and I’ll end up fighting it out with the bad guys, just to save a few retched souls.”

  “You’re the one that’s so worried about them. Besides, it’s a good deed; it might get you into Heaven.”

  “I don’t know if you’ve talked to Mr. V about that, but he doesn’t think there is a Heaven.”

  “Well, you just keep it to yourself because most people wouldn’t be so calm about that. I’m surprised you are?” Arty said.

  “I haven’t really thought about it much, but I guess when I’m gone, I’m gone. I can be comfortable with that.”

  Chapter 12

  TT. Fighter

  Arty had left a message with Mr. V that he wanted Tim to meet him in one of the upper level chambers. The computer directed Tim to the location, and when he entered he saw an object being constructed by numerous small robots similar to Arty, but without the human head. They were all robot. Arty was there.

  “What is it?” Tim asked as he looked at what was being built.

  “Some transportation,” Arty responded.

  Tim walked up to the object and took a closer look. The machine appeared to be a rectangular box: eight feet long, six feet wide, and three feet deep. On the front of the box another piece drew together to form a flat slender half cone. Inside the box many thin tubes ended in clusters in many places all through the box. Tim looked into one of the tubes and saw it wasn’t hollow, but filled with a transparent substance.

  “What are these for?” Tim asked.

  “It’s a type of advanced fiber optics, a replacement for wires. It’s the control system,” Arty commented over his mechanical shoulder.

  Tim shook his head in recognition. He walked slowly around the object trying to figure out what Arty was making. Suddenly it dawned on him, ‘because’, what else would Arty make? “An airplane!” Tim said loudly.

  “Not just an airplane,” Arty stated as he turned to face Tim. “The most advanced plane to fly the skies since Mr. V’s people left. Here look.” A hologram of the plane popped into existence right in front of Tim.

  It was a radical looking thing. The image rotated in a spherical axis, showing every angle possible.

  “Arty, I don’t know too much about planes so what am I looking at here?”

  “A dream comes true.”

  “It does look like it was part of someone’s dream,” Tim commented as he watched the image rotate. It was a really sinister looking thing, but it was beautiful also. It had fairly large rounded wings, but they were short, extending no more than six or seven feet out from the main body. It was difficult to tell where the body quit and the wings started because every part of the plane was blended. The wings were situated far back on the fuselage. Two rudders angled out at a forty-five degree angle and were attached to the body right where the engines and wings connecte
d.

  The first box he had looked at, the one already under construction, was the main fuselage where the engines were located. This left the engines three feet apart. The front of the box was the cockpit and the cone shaped part was the nose of the craft. The cockpit was slightly forward of two large air intakes for the engines. The cone in front had a flat ridge running back from just behind the point along both sides to connect to small wings that angled down. Tim asked Arty about them and he said they were called canards.

  When the plane was completed it would be sleek and aerodynamic. The cockpit and the engines were the thickest part of the plane, the rest being thin. It almost looked fragile, but Tim knew that was deceptive. He walked over to the box being assembled and looked inside. The pilot would be close to laying back horizontal.

  “Holy shit Arty, how fast will this thing go?” Tim asked.

  “I figure about five-thousand per.”

  “Miles-per-hour! You’ve got to be kidding? Wow! That’s fast enough, I imagine,” Tim said as he shook his head up and down in agreement.

  “It will make for some good trips. Not too much room for a suitcase and golf clubs, though,” Arty added.

  “Arty, not too many places are going to give you a room or a tee time, anyway,” Tim shot back.

  “Probably true. Anyway, the TT Fighter when completed will weigh about seven-thousand pounds with pilot and fuel, and the—”

  “TT Fighter?” Tim interrupted.

  “Yes, Timtown.”

  “But why fighter?” Tim asked with his head cocked to the side.

  “Come on Tim, it’s certainly not a commercial plane, and as we both joked earlier, it can’t carry anything but a pilot, so what would you have me call it, huh?”

  “I just don’t like the fighter thing about it.”

  “There you go again. What ‘is’ your problem? It is a hell hole out there. Do you want me to go flying in a Piper Cub? What do you think my chances would be on returning? You saw the news?”

  “Is it armed?”

  “Ah, ha. It doesn’t need to be armed. As I was explaining, before you interrupted, the TT ‘Airplane’ will weight seven-thousand pounds, and each engine will produce fifty-thousand pounds of thrust.”

  “What kind of ride does that mean?”

  “Well, fighters are rated by what they weight to the pounds of thrust ratios. The best today are about one to one, so figure it out.”

  “Ooooh, wait, hum. . . how much does it weight?”

  “Seven-thousand pounds.”

  “And the engines?”

  “Two engines, at fifty-thousand each. Figure it out.”

  A quick calculation of Arty’s figures and Tim whistled. “About one to fourteen,” he said almost holding his breath.