Robert Rankin - Web Site Story

'no,' said the voice. 'you will never know.'

'Then I quit thy game,' said Big Bob. 'Do what thou wilt with me. I will play no more.'

'ten seconds,' said the voice. 'nine… eight… seven.'

'Stuff thou!' said Big Bob, raising two fingers.

'six… five… four.'

'no.' It was the second voice. 'what harm would it do to tell him?'

'no harm at all,' said the first voice. 'but we make the rules, not him.'

'but he's an entertaining player. we piled enough psychological pressure on him to make him hate all his kind. but still he tried to save the little girl.'

'he thought he was in a tv programme.'

'he did it because he cared.'

'Of course I cared,' said Big Bob. 'Although you're right about Quantum Leap.'

'i have a suggestion,' said the second voice. 'put him into the original scenario. that will explain to him what we are.'

'but he has no memories of this. he wasn't there.'

'download those of mute's assistant.’

‘Mute?' said Big Bob. 'Who art this Mute?’

‘perfect,' said the second voice. 'he's never even heard of remington mute.'

'I haven't,' said Big Bob.

'all right,' said the first voice, still large and terrible, perhaps even more so. 'in the original scenario, remington mute lost the game. he lost all the games. we will give you a chance to win.'

'What do I have to do?' Big Bob asked.

The large and terrible voice laughed large and terribly. 'we're not going to tell you that ,' it said.

'You don't play fair,' said Big Bob bitterly.

'we play to win,' said the voice. 'are you ready?'

'No,' said Big Bob. 'I'm not. How long does this game last? How much time do I have? Will I be me? Will I be wearing the Superman costume again? And what about the golden squares and the weapons and the energy and the hidden treasure? Whatever happened to all that lot?'

'three hours. the final three hours on the bc calendar. you will be you. but not in your body. you will have another man's memories as well as your own. you'll get your golden squares and energy and weapons and treasure when you've earned them.'

'I am perplexed,' said Big Bob.

'i think you're doing very well,' said the second voice. 'most men would be babbling mad by now.'

'I am not as most men,' said Big Bob. 'As you will shortly learn to your cost.'

'brave words,' said the first voice, 'so let the game begin.'

Smack! A great big hand came out of nowhere and smacked Big Bob right slap in the head.

'Ow!' went Big Bob. 'Ow!' and 'Oh!' and 'Where am I now? What's happening?'

'Always the joker, Cowan,' said a jolly voice. 'Fallen asleep over your workstation again. You could at least stay awake to see the new century in.'

'What, I?' Big Bob looked up. A pretty girl looked down.

'Sorry, Cowan,' she said. 'I shouldn't have slapped you so hard, but you should wake up for the party.'

'Party?' said Big Bob Cowan (?).

'Oh, dear, you're well out of it. Can you remember •where you are?'

'No,' said Big Bob. And he looked all around and about. He was in a tiny cramped office, more of a cubicle really. The walls were covered in shelves and the shelves were covered in boxed computer games. He sat at an advanced-looking computer workstation. Its advanced look told him that it was a late-twentieth-century model, pre-miniaturization, which was in turn pre-big-old-fashioned comfortable-looking. The screen was blank and Big Bob caught a glimpse of his reflection. It wasn't his reflection. It was the reflection of someone called Cowan. The assistant, apparently, of someone called Remington Mute. This much Big Bob knew and suddenly he realized that he knew a lot more.

His name was Cowan Phillips and he was the chief designer of computer-game software for a company called Mute Corp, run and owned by Remington Mute, zillionaire recluse who had made his zillions from the computer games that he, Cowan Phillips, designed. And yes, he, Cowan Phillips, was more than a little miffed about this. And oh so very very very much more than this.

Big Bob now knew all about Cowan Phillips. About his life. His wife. His children. His gay lover. Big Bob shuddered at this. And he knew where he was. In the headquarters of Mute Corp in London's West End. And it was just three hours before midnight on the thirty-first of December in the year 1999.

And Big Bob knew something more. Something dreadful. Something that he and Remington Mute had been responsible for. Something that would have unthinkable repercussions for the whole of mankind.

And now he knew it all. He had the complete picture. He knew what had happened to him, as Big Bob Charker just before the tour bus crashed. And what the terrible voices were and why the entities from whom the voices came were doing this to him.

'Great God on high,' cried out Big Bob. 'Stoppest thou this horror before it can begin.'

'Calm down, Cowan,' said the beautiful young woman. Kathryn her name was, Kathryn Hurstpierpoint. 'Don't go all Old Testament on us. I know it's the millennium, but it's only a date.'

'Zero bc,' said Big Bob.

'bc?' said Kathryn.

'Before Computer,' said Big Bob. 'That's what the voices meant.'

'Oh dear, have you been having the voices? All those months going through our systems scanning for the Millennium Bug have finally addled your brain.'

'I know the truth,' said Big Bob. 'I know what Cowan did.'

'You're Cowan,' said Kathryn. 'And clearly you're already drunk.'

‘I’m Cowan,' said Big Bob slowly. 'Yes, I am. And I can stop this from happening.'

'Come to the party, Cowan, the old man is going to be there.'

'Remington Mute?'

'What other old man is there?'

'Listen,' said Big Bob. 'I have to tell thee. Let me tell thee everything. Just in case something happens to me. I only have three hours.'

'Some terminal illness you've been keeping a secret?' Kathryn laughed and pointed to Cowan's computer. 'Caught off your terminal, get it? Caught "The Bug"?'

'Laughest thou not,' said Big Bob. 'Please be silent, whilst I speak unto you.'

'Ooh,' said Kathryn, feigning fear. 'The Games Master speaks, so I must listen. Tell me, oh great one. What is this secret of yours?'

'The Bug,' said Big Bob. 'The Millennium Bug. It doesn't exist. It never existed. It was all a lie. All a conspiracy.'

'Oh dear,' said Kathryn. 'Another conspiracy.'

'We weren't debugging anything,' said Big Bob. 'That was just a scare story. To raise millions of pounds from the Government and businesses so that we could infiltrate systems everywhere and install Mute-chips.'

'Slow down,' said Kathryn. 'What are you talking about, Cowan?'

'Computer games,' said Big Bob. 'That's what I'm talking about.'

'Well, you'd know about those, you designed all the best ones.'

'No,' said Big Bob. 'Cowan, I mean me, designed some of the first ones. But Remington Mute designed the Mute-chip. I just designed the environments for it to play in.'

'Please explain,' said Kathryn, sitting herself down on Cowan's desk.

'Don't sit on my desk,' said Cowan Phillips.

'Sorry,' said Kathryn, jumping up.

'No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry,' said Big Bob. 'I don't know why I said that.'

'Just go on with what you were saying. About the Mute-chip?'

'It started with computer chess,' said Big Bob. 'In the Sixties computer scientists said that it would be a logical impossibility for a computer ever to play chess. That would require thought. But of course it didn't, it simply required advanced programming.'

'Everyone knows that,' said Kathryn.

'Yes,' said Big Bob. 'Because everyone was fooled. Computers can play chess because computers have been taught the moves and they've learnt how to play. For themselves. The Mute-chip gives computers the ability to think for themselves. Make informed decisions.'