Free Return to Wardate by Bill Cornwell Page A

her
I’m fine. Ask her, how’s the old frump? ’ replied Barton through
Madeline’s audio circuits.
    ‘He’s fine,
he’s asking how’s the old frump?’
    Sam laughed
heartily but wisely didn’t give a reply.
    ‘He’s like my
dad, he looks after me,’ said Madeline proudly.
    Samantha
Johnson formerly Professor Braugenhau was a truly lovely warm
caring person - Madeline Instantly bonded. She told the Professor
everything she could: How Poppy died and Madeline was born, her
adventures, her upgrades, all about Adam, all about Barton, about
her latest mission and then more about Adam. They talked for hours
and eventually moved onto the subject of Ray de Par.
    ‘I had two
sons. I wouldn’t - couldn’t cooperate with him so Jay my youngest
got a parcel.’
    Madeline knew
instantly what she was leading to.
    ‘I’m so, so
sorry,’ said Madeline holding her hand.
    ‘Your hand,
it’s warm and soft… and perfect,’ said the professor trying her
best to change the subject but she knew she had to finish.
    ‘I had no
choice, I couldn’t loose Danny, my eldest.’
    ‘No, no, anyone
would have done the same,’ reassured Madeline.
    ‘Anyway, my
lovely Madeline, you sorted him out, you did good.’
    The odd tear
was now flowing down the professor’s face washing off some of the
designer dirt.
    ‘So I assume
you’re here for a reason, what do you want to know?’ asked the
Professor.
    ‘True, I have
come to pick your brains but all the same, I did want to meet you.
Have you heard the name, Mark Titoo?’
    ‘Of course I
have, he’s… he’s the…’
    ‘I thought if
anyone knew him, it would be you but you don’t know him, do
you?’
    ‘I’m really
sorry,’ said the Professor.
    ‘Oh… don’t
apologise, apparently no one knows who he is but everybody has
heard of him. Apparently there’s an ultrasound signal that’s
constantly being transmitted from somewhere and it’s brainwashing
all of us. You don’t know of anyone who was developing, researching
anything similar to that in your line of work… thought control,
whatever you would call it?’
    ‘It was back in
the naughty 90’s at Cambridge. There was a group of us specialising
in radio communication and electronics. We were trying to find a
new unique way of communication. That’s a photo of us behind
you.’
    Madeline picked
up the photo frame - a group of six happy men and women posed.
Professor Braugenhau could clearly be recognised third from the
left. She was definitely a woman, pretty, well dressed and not a
hint of grime on her face.
    ‘At that time, they were worried that all the electromagnetic spectrum
would be shortly used up with radio and television transmissions
leaving no spare space for vital services… they wanted the
impossible. They wanted us to find a new… spectrum I suppose. As
usual, a little bit of knowledge is a dangerous thing especially if
you’re a narrow minded minister. However we did come up with quiet
a few ideas as you probably now realise.’
    ‘Do you know
the names of you group?’
    ‘Now you’re
asking, we all tended to call each other by nick names. Faggy,
Carpy… oh yes, Coco. I was called Eyebrow – for obvious
reasons.’
    Madeline stored
the picture in her internal gallery files.
    ‘Was anyone
dabbling in… I don’t know… something like a biological spectrum?’
asked Madeline trying to be intelligent.
    ‘An interesting
notion. I don’t really know, almost everything was considered –
bioelectronics, neutrinos, gravity waves and yes, even ultrasound
but I can’t remember who was concentrating on what, we tended not
to pry on one another’s work,’ said the Professor.
    Madeline
listened intently to the friendly old lady but a flashing light in
the corner of her vision distracted her. It was her jamming device,
the indicator was no longer green but flashing red – the battery
was almost flat which probably meant the device wasn’t working.
Exactly how long this had been the case, she