Return to Wardate Read online

  Return to Wardate

  By Bill Cornwell

  Copyright 2014 by Bill Cornwell

  Smashwords edition

  Strictly speaking, you don’t have to read the first instalment – The Residents of Wardate to get through this story but if you do, it will remove much of the confusion.

  Chapter 1: Miracle worker

  What he saw brutally singed his retinas.

  The signals from his optic nerves stamped his visual cortex with the clout of a pile driving hammer. Adam would never forget, couldn’t possibly forget the disturbing sight but he would have to – if he ever wanted sweet dreams again.

  ‘Barton, you have to help her!’ Adam pleaded. ‘You’ve got to!’

  To recap, Adam had hastily removed the lid off the tank – the tank which contained the withered husk of Poppy Cock’s body. The last screw was a devil to get out but he wasn’t going to let that minor hindrance get in the way of his objective. Poppy was inside; that much is true but her existence was measurably more spiritual than anything physical. Bathed in the special fluid was not the pretty Poppy as all used to see her but something that was once a human being. The spirit of Poppy was still beautiful and always would be but now everything rested on Barton performing a miracle – as simple as that.

  Barton silently and with stoicism, visually examined the human remains of Poppy in the tank. The minimum amount of life support Aaron Alexander had left connected to the tank had completely melted away. Poppy was isolated, barely surviving on her own God-given live support - this was not good. With an aggressive but focused action, Barton ripped the surviving tubes and connections from the new tank intended firstly for Ronald Poultney and then for Alexander and pushed and plugged them in the receptors of Poppy’s tank.

  ‘That should keep her alive for now, priority right now is to see my daughter but I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  Adam knew this was an area where there could be no argument. His daughter Zoë was now safe and being looked after in hospital after been chained up in a cold, damp dark culvert for many weeks. He appreciated what he had done and remained silent. Barton left with one of the police officers. Detective Stoddard and Adam remained, standing silently in the damp, dripping shell of an old cow shed full of charred technical objects. Several minutes went by before Stoddard asked a very pertinent question.

  ‘Okay, what the hell is going on here?’

  ‘Exactly - hell is going on here,’ said Adam quietly.

  He didn’t particularly feel like talking civilly for the moment, especially to an aloof member of the police force. Stoddard gingerly slithered his way over to the tank.

  ‘What – who - is that?’

  ‘That is what’s left of Poppy - Poppy Cock, my fiancée.’

  ‘No… not the TV correspondent person... but she’s dead?’

  ‘Well she will be very shortly if Barton can’t work his miracles on her.’

  ‘I’m sorry, excuse me for being a bit slow but what’s Poppy Cock got to do with all this?’

  Adam didn’t know how to continue. Should he remain secretive? Indeed, should he have gone as far as he had and told Stoddard that it was Poppy in the tank? Perhaps Stoddard ought to know - know the whole story that Madeline Bull was an android. This brought on another crucial question.

  ‘Where’s Madeline?’ Adam asked suddenly.

  ‘Officer Stevens took her into the house, apparently she’s fast asleep – strange girl, doesn’t seem to want to wake up.’

  ‘Stoddard, I know you have to take the moral high ground with your profession but... can you keep a secret and I mean a big secret?’

  ‘Of course, provided it’s lawful,’ said Stoddard officiously.

  ‘The answer’s no then? This is way off being lawful.’

  Withholding evidence now reverberated within the space between Adams ears. He wished he’d just invented a few white lies and left it at that. Now, if he didn’t tell Stoddard the whole incredible truth, there was a strong possibility that it could be extracted from him in the most effective and efficient way allowed by modern day police methods. Telling him would mean there would be one more person in the world that knew the secret which could, one day jeopardise Poppy’s and Madeline’s safety. One more person could be accepted if they were above repute but even police Detectives have been known to have issues with their principles. Adam had noticed his cavalier attitude to crises and his apparent lack of intuition despite his many years of service but this didn’t mean to say he was untrustworthy or undependable. He had to know and that was that.

  ‘Okay... to put it simply, Madeline is an android.’ said Adam concisely.

  ‘Madeline... android? Well that’s certainly different.’ said Stoddard.

  ‘See all these wires, this burnt out equipment? Look... Poppy, she’s covered in little needles with wires attached to them. All this equipment relays the hundreds of signals from her body to that android, snoozing in the house. That melted monitor on the wall over there, used to show Madeline’s eyesight. That box in front of Poppy’s face... it contains TV screens which relay what Madeline’s eyes see. Getting it yet?’

  ‘So you are saying Miss Bull is just a machine, made of metal and plastic?’

  ‘Well, perhaps materials not as mundane as that but yes, she is a machine... so you believe me?’

  ‘Oh yes and the little fairies at the bottom of my garden keep nicking my carrots.’ ridiculed Stoddard.

  ‘Look, I didn’t want to tell you but you did ask. Go and take a close look at Madeline.’ said Adam.

  As a reminder, Poppy was in this life support tank because twelve months ago she was burnt terribly by the actions of an evil young boy – a resident of Wardate. This young boy was now dead because an android had professionally, painfully and revengefully killed him. Now, this android had a secret which made it behave very human like. The secret was precisely this: Poppy had been given a second chance to live by remotely controlling this incredible android, called Madeline Bull, from within her life support tank. Now though, Poppy couldn’t control anything, not even her breathing, heartbeat or respiration. This was because she had been literally poached in her tank by a fire cruelly started by one of four the scientists – Aaron Alexander. This scientist had previously helped to give her this new life but, as it turned out, ironically, he was another of these evil Wardate residents.

  For a brief moment, just before Adam removed the lid from the tank, seconds passed as hours and hours passed as joy. In this serendipitous moment, everything: Madeline Bull, Wardate and the assassinations - all had been a dream and many parallels had been forged. For example, Wardate related to Ward 8 where she spent her time in hospital. For this brief joyous moment she was well again – her burns had mended and she was back with her Adam.

  Chapter 2: An arrest is made

  Madeline Bull laid there, beautiful, oozing sex albeit peacefully asleep on the lounge sofa. Her long thick blonde hair draped neatly around a small cushion which Stevens had thoughtfully placed under her head. She looked convincingly human – perfectly human, more human than many humans. Stoddard was going to take a lot of convincing.

  ‘Miss Bull! ... Madeline, Madeline, wake up!’ said Stoddard firmly.

  ‘Forget it, she can’t wake up. This is how she – the machine responds when the connection fails.’

  ‘Rubbish, sometime I have the same problem with my wife, a devil to wake up after a few gin and tonics.’

  Adam was going to have to prove Madeline was a machine somehow but it wasn’t going to be easy especially as she was designed to emulate a human female in every possibly way. Even her skin was just like… skin. Now that the Americans had re-skinned her, she even had a scattering of freckles, moles and wrinkles to
add to the realism. There was no hatch to lift up or panel to unclip. No mechanical noises either now that the diesel engine had been replaced with a state of the art miniature fuel cell. He could cut into her skin to show titanium bones but he knew Madeline would kill him for this wilful defacement - if she eventually woke up. Stoddard had an overwhelming urge to handle her, purely in an effort make her more comfortable. For no justifiable reason Stoddard removed her black leather high heeled boots although this did make her fit more easily on the sofa. He dribbled slightly as even more of her perfect legs were revealed. Her silky skin was smooth and tanned just the right amount all the way up to her underwear she now had to wear. Somehow her skirt had ruffled up indiscreetly but no one had thought it their responsibility to pull it down. Unfortunately though there was imperfection, one foot had half a big toe missing, wholly due to Adam’s carelessness with a hand gun. He squirmed with the memory but immediately realised that this was the proof he was after.

  ‘There, have a close look at her toe.’

  Adam didn’t have to ask twice. Stoddard’s dribbling intensified as he lifted up her foot and gazed into the wound. Disappearing into the remainder of her toe were several wires which used to be connected to a USB socket. The protruding bone was clearly not made of calcium as it should have been but a greyish metal.

  ‘USB... there used to be a USB connection there to link her up to a PC but I shot it off... don’t ask!’ said Adam, red faced.

  ‘But she’s... she’s perfect!’

  ‘I know – in every way you could possibly imagine,’ boasted Adam.

  Stoddard had to sit down. He reached into his pocket for a tissue; his dribble had turned into a torrent of slobber. He was, afterall, a professional who had been trained to stay indifferent and focused when faced with extreme distractions such as this - nevertheless he wouldn’t be able to stand up for several minutes.

  ‘Well... give me a stiff one, barkeep!’ said Stoddard still pretending to be a cowboy.

  Madeline Bull was purposely designed to have this effect on men; this was classed as part of her weaponry. Her beauty was intoxicating, having the Aphrodite ratio – one step up from the Golden ratio. This meant she was beyond beautiful – her looks instantly entranced the opposite sex. Her figure naturally matched her face, unrealistic and unattainable, having proportions that nudged well into the erotic zone even when fully clothed.

  ‘I see… so that’s what all this is about, Barton’s daughter, Mr Poultney, that woman in the culvert...’ said Stoddard smugly.

  ‘Angela.’ interrupted Adam. ‘Poultney wanted to hijack the whole system for himself on behalf of the Americans but Alexander had his own designs on it - he wanted it as a gift for Wardate.

  ‘Wardate?’ asked Stoddard.

  ‘From what I can gather, a society for really evil people.’

  Stoddard had a question that had never been asked before.

  ‘So, who’s now in charge of all this technology?

  ‘Poppy Cock, and that’s who it should be.’ said Adam with commitment.

  This was certainly the correct answer. It used to be Paul Brownsword formerly known as Turner but he had been murdered.

  ‘You know, documenting this case is going to be hell of a challenge.’ said Stoddard.

  ‘Listen… there is no case! Poppy’s whereabouts have to remain totally secret. No one must know of her location. Madeline’s biggest weakness is the vulnerability of Poppy. Without Poppy, there is no Madeline. With Poppy safe and secure, Madeline can get on with being invincible and fighting evil.’

  Stoddard pondered for a while, strolled over to the window, watched a motor cyclist drive off, had another good long look at Madeline graced on the sofa and then got on his police radio.

  ‘Charlie - Echo, apprehend a motor cyclist heading north on Leys lane; registration J14 RTW.’

  And then he summarised the case. ‘Aaron Alexander is clearly a deranged, psychopathic killer. I think we’ll leave it at that.’

  Alexander, the scientist who was at the root of all the evilness, the one who had set fire to the barn which contained Poppy’s tank, had concealed himself away somewhere in the grounds of the farm house. He was waiting for the right moment to slide away, unnoticed. Unfortunately, as it happened, he had chosen the wrong moment and was seen by Stoddard through the lounge window. Two miles down the lane, he was pulled over and arrested for several murders, attempted murder, child abduction, attempted theft of government property and arson.

  Chapter 3: Two new recruits

  Barton’s instructions for Adam were simple:

  1) Take Madeline away and keep her safe.

  2) Wait for Madeline to activate.

  How Barton wished his tasks were as simple as Adam’s. The genius professor desperately wanted assistance, wanted others to share in his challenge but the best people were either dead or handcuffed. However there were other geniuses available and shortly he had come up with two names. He was well aware that geniuses are often eccentric, unreliable and questionable. Only Angela had proved to be made of the right stuff and for that virtue she was horribly murdered.

  By the time Barton had driven to the hospital to see his daughter, spent some fatherly time with her and driven back to the farm house, two new recruits were waiting impatiently. The first was Doctor Pierre Merlu, a specialist in biomechanics, the second was Dean Hake, specialising in computer science and electronics. Both were sitting in their cars, desperate for the toilet, dying for a cup of tea and eager for an explanation. Intentionally he ushered them away from the cow shed and into the house, made them a drink, showed them where the toilet was and talked a little about the beautiful countryside and the inclement weather. Several minutes of valuable time were consumed, wastefully, but specifically for a purpose.

  ‘You talked about a critically ill patient with a unique illness. As much as I love this part of the country and take an interest in the weather, I do have other commitments. So exactly where is the patient?’ asked Pierre Merlu, speaking in perfect Oxford English despite clearly having a French name.

  ‘You said it was a life and death situation, you don’t seem to be in much of a hurry.’ complained Dean Hake.

  Barton relaxed his pleasantries. ‘Before I commit myself, I have to be fully satisfied that I have chosen the right people for the job… I believe that I have. I want you to be fully aware that everything you see and do here is totally classified. What you are about to see is extraordinary and unique and is imperative that you keep tight lipped. Three people associated with the project are now dead so loose tongues will certainly endanger your own lives, even your family’s… So if anything I’ve just said has put you off, thank you for your time, please leave now and forget I ever asked you.’

  He waited for any reactions including rejections or questions, there weren’t any. That was it, they were now in the team, he hoped he had chosen well because two more people were about to know all about the Madeline Bull project. He directed them out of the house, across the yard, unlocked the cow shed door and encouraged them to go in.

  ‘Welcome to the Madeline Bull project.’

  Dean Hake and Pierre Merlu looked at the charred rafters, the smoke stained equipment and then they looked at each other.

  ‘Is this some kind of joke!?’ Hake ranted.

  ‘I wish it was. This is what remains of the project and in that tank over there is what I need your skills for.’

  Barton motioned them over to the open tank, the home of Poppy Cock.

  ‘Remarkable, Simulated Human Integrated Transmogrify... and who is the subject?’ asked Merlu.

  ‘You’re familiar with the process?’ asked a surprised Barton.

  ‘I have some experience, yes. I did my thesis in human robotic control. Am I right in thinking there is an associated transceptor?’ asked Merlu.

  ‘Transceptor – a new kind of dinosaur, I presume?’ Hake suggested light heartedly.

  ‘Transceptor: simply a receiving medium that is
linked to a controlling force over distance. In this case I assume it’s an automaton controlled by a human, yes?’ probed Merlu.

  ‘Err... yes precisely.’ confirmed Barton.

  ‘Bloody hell, so that’s what this is all about - That young female who’s been in all the papers. A one woman army accredited to terminating several evil folk with unusual talents, she’s a drone then?’ asked Hake excitedly.

  ‘Well, it seems, gentlemen, no gaps need to be filled in. You are up and running to speed. Shall we get started?’ suggested Barton.

  And so they did. Fresh white lab coats miraculously appeared and expensive looking folding tool boxes were opened up. It seemed that Barton couldn’t have chosen better; he just hoped they would live up to his expectations. Despite the complexity of the project, cleaning, rewiring and component changing were essentially the tasks to be performed. Barton’s specialities were manifold but immediately his skills were directed towards Poppy’s welfare. Remarkably she was alive. She had survived the fire and all its qualities. She sported a strong heart beat, her breathing was steady and fortunately she was unconscious. Hopefully he could get her entertainment system working before she regained consciousness and then she could watch this week’s episode of Downton Abbey.

  Chapter 4: Adam and Jenny

  Where would be the safest place to take Madeline? The Isle of Skye in Scotland strangely materialised in Adam’s mind. This was odd because he had never visited any part of the land of the kilts and bagpipes before and had no idea of where the Isle of Skye was. All he knew was that it was a long way up the M6 and then some. First though, he had to visit his home in Bristol.