Mark Leigh: Dick Longg: Sexual Saviour of the Universe

There was little Dick could do without Taylor so he decided to get an early night and wake up refreshed, ready for action. Maxx had told him that work on the bombs would continue throughout the night, that final checks would be completed by midday and that then they would be transported to the various launch sites up and down the country. The launch was scheduled for 10pm. Dick wondered if Maxx had lied about this and would suddenly announce he was bringing the launch forward just like he’d recently done. However, with the amount of work and testing seemingly still to be carried out, he doubted if this was physically possible.

Dick slept badly that night, tortured by a series of unpleasant dreams, metaphors for his impending fate. In all these dreams he was naked. He saw himself at various times sliding down a banister made of razor blades, trying to leap over a barbed wire fence and snagging himself – and having a piece of cheese wire wrapped around his penis and then being dragged along the ground by a hovercar.

He slipped in and out of consciousness but awoke with a smile on his face, putting all thoughts of severed penises and ripped scrotums out of his mind. While he was asleep, being tormented by these visions, another part of his mind had worked out the missing part of the plan. He dressed, had a quick breakfast and by 8.55 was making his way down to the storeroom to seek out Taylor.

‘It’s ruthless’. Taylor took a deep breath before continuing. ‘And it involves the cold-blooded murder of innocent people’.

‘I know’, Dick said. ‘But it’s the only way I can see the plan working. And it should be relatively easy to orchestrate. All you need to do is make use of your existing skills’.

‘You’re asking a hell of a lot’, Taylor said.

‘I assume you can do the programming?’ Dick asked.

‘Well I’ve got to, haven’t I?’ said Taylor.

It was rhetorical question but Dick still answered, ‘Yes, you do’.

Taylor estimated there was four hour’s work ahead of him and then half an hour for uploads. Dick estimated they only had two hours to do this. Taylor swore. Dick felt that the short time they had left could actually work in their favour as it meant that Maxx’s and Hargreave’s concentration would be focused completely on the impending launch – not on where Dick was, or what he might be doing.

While Taylor inputted lines and lines of unintelligible code from a portable terminal, Dick held the door ajar and kept watch, mindful of anyone paying them a surprise visit. Fortunately they weren’t disturbed and just after half past eleven Taylor unplugged the cable interface from the back of Jack’s head and let out a sigh.

‘This is our one chance Dick, our only hope of stopping Maxx. And I’ve had no option but to rush the programming!’, Taylor warned. ‘I haven’t been able to run tests or cross-checks. There’s no knowing what could happen when he’s activated!’

Dick knew time was of the essence. As Taylor was worrying about his programming skills he felt under Jack’s collar and activated the small switch. There was a reassuring click and Dick stepped back.

Nothing.

He clicked the switch off and on. Then again. Nothing. He clicked it several times in quick succession but Jack stood there, ironically, completely stiff.

‘I don’t understand’, said Taylor. ‘He’s been fully charged. He should just power up’.

Dick clicked the switch off and on again and on getting no response, frustratingly kicked Jack in the backside. Jack’s eyes blinked opened and the initially faint but then distinctive smell of hydraulic fluid filled the room as the liquid began to circulate around his body.

‘Let’s get this fun over with’, said Dick. He shook Taylor’s hand and the two men watched in nervous amazement as Jack made his way to the door in silence, opened it, and walked along the corridor taking strong, purposeful strides.

Elsewhere in the building, somewhere on the upper levels, Maxx was having a heated exchange with Dr. Hargreaves. The doctor had explained there was a tiny, itsy-bitsy problem with a fuel vent in the propulsion system of the rockets that would carry the bombs and this was being sorted as they spoke. Or rather shouted. Maxx was stressed and anxious. The development of the Impotence Bomb had been the culmination of three years of intense development since he’d come to power. It’s what had driven him throughout all those long, barren sex-free years and now, just a few hours before launch he wasn’t going to let some stupid minor technical glitch spoil his fun. However, what was going to spoil his fun was already taking place on sub level four.

Taylor had taken a spare white coat and had put this over Jack’s suit so he could wander around relatively anonymously. The biggest problem they had to overcome was the fact that Jack had no ID chip embedded in his fake skin, and Taylor’s chip wouldn’t permit him access above level three. This meant that when they reached a security station they’d have to rely on brute force to get through. Strictly speaking though, brute force wasn’t Jack’s thing. He was better than that. He’d been designed, built and programmed to be a discrete but effective killing machine. And today Taylor and Dick were relying on him to play that part perfectly.

The trio approached the security station on the way to the elevator. Dick presented his ID chip and walked through the turnstile but just after he passed through he stumbled and fell. As the guard’s attention was diverted Jack struck. In a flash he’d withdrawn his knife and plunged it deep into the guard’s chest, puncturing his heart. Death was instant; the guard didn’t even have time to let out a grunt or a groan. Jack dragged the dead guard to the scanner and passed his hand over it twice so that he and Taylor could pass through. They hid the body in a janitor’s store cupboard, wiped a small spillage of blood from the clean white floor and took the elevator up nine floors to level five.

Dick retraced his steps here, passing through the three security stations on the way to their final destination. Each time he diverted the guards’ attention and each time Jack struck with the same lightning speed. It was important that like their first victim, these guards were killed quickly and cleanly so they had no time to cry for help or set off an alarm. Jack varied the methods used; part of his original programming had been a full understanding of the human anatomy and Taylor had made sure that this information had been restored along with the details of his new mission. The first two guards died from knife wounds to the base of their skulls that severed their brain stems while the third was stabbed in the neck causing massive internal haemorrhaging. Dick felt a slight twinge of guilt in these killings of what were basically innocent men, but he told himself that the ends justified the means.

There didn’t seem to be any sort of storeroom or cupboard near the third security station so they slumped the dead guard’s body back in his chair as if he was asleep on the job. Dick hoped that anyone seeing the knife wound might assume that the guard had a particularly hairy neck and had cut himself shaving. With Jack and Taylor hanging back, Dick turned the final corner and saw the two armed guards on duty in front of the locked door that protected the bombs. The guards tensed and reached for their guns as he approached.

‘Hello. I’m Jeremy Brunel’, said Dick.

‘We know’, said Guard One.

‘The Leader said I could look around this facility’.

‘We know that too’, said Guard Two.

‘Good, well in that case’, Dick said, gesturing to the locked room, ‘I need to look inside. I’m helping with a technical issue’.