by Zaslow Crane
Martin waved.
Everyone cheered.
Paul, standing off camera and backstage, rolled his eyes. He’d been invited in hopes of bringing him “on board” quickly, allowing them to use the remaining Beatles buy in to help sell this idea. But Paul, while he came along to watch and learn, was not convinced. Not at all.
“We can make a “Beatle” who would look and act like “George” if disease hadn’t claimed him, or a very, very close approximation of “John” if a deranged Mr. Mark David Chapman hadn’t ended his life…”
They will practice songs together, perhaps write a few new ones, and play as they did when our grandmothers were losing their virginity to their boyfriends while listening to “Abbey Road” on a couch in a basement somewhere in Middle America.”
This particular comment caused a stir in the Red States. There was a good deal of indignant push back and denial… Twitter, Buzzfeed, etc.
People just didn’t have casual sex here!
A few late-night TV pundits had a few night’s laughs over
that… “I understand that you all have questions; please refer to the handouts we’re providing. If those don’t answer your questions, then feel free to write to our website and ask away. The website is…www.BeatlesNow.com. There are a lot more facts and other relevant tidbits for you…and your readers to enjoy. Thank you. Please watch for further announcements as we…and The Beatles progress to our first series of concerts together…in…53…years!
A great many of the press assembled could not help but cheer, as Ted had planned, by his choice of wording and his big finish.
lll Ringo certainly didn’t need the money, but when he saw sales projections for a four-month tour, he was flabbergasted.
He signed up on the spot.
Paul was a bit more difficult. He held out for a few days after the tour possibility was leaked to the press and fans, and to the hundreds of news organizations, newspapers and TV stations that headlined: “Beatles Reunion!!”
“I won’t play with robots!”
“Mr. McCartney, we’ve explained all this before. They’re not robots. It’s A.I. Intelligent beings that will replicate your two friends…your brothers. If the stage was darkened just a bit, you might mistake them for your band mates, back together with you…as a group.”
“And you say Ringo has already agreed to all of this?” “Yes, sir. He has. He’s excited to get started.”
“He always was the simple one,” Paul muttered. “What?”
“Nothing…anyway…I don’t know…I have my own career.”
“Yes, sir, and it’s been fantastic, but wouldn’t it be good to visit those glory days just once more…Ringo is even postponing his upcoming tour to give full-time attention to this project. That’s how excited Mr. Starr is!”
Paul signed soon after that saying, “It’ll be good to see our fans again after all these years.”
John and George had no say in this of course. Their descendants signed “on the dotted line,” almost immediately.
Julian was anxious to at least see his dad again; and Olivia and Dhani thought it would help George’s legacy.
Yoko Ono was tied up in court for a year until she finally backed down.
She’ll bide her time. I know this woman. She is tenacious. She’ll be back. Ted thought.
lll “I don’t want to let Paul “meet” John just yet. John is so difficult to model….”
Ted nodded.
“I’ve read your reports. I get it. So what’s your next step?”
Martin fidgeted a bit with his antique mouse before outlining the parameters that he was most concerned with. Ted concentrated on the holo presented to him.
“John is, um was and will forever be the most difficult to manage because he was such a wildcard…unpredictable, dour and caustic one moment, and happy and playful the next.” “How do we maintain control?”
Martin cleared his throat a bit exhibiting a newly minted nervous tick in his right cheek.
“We…um…Don’t.”
Ted was about to protest when Martin cut him off.
He held his hands up in a “Wait a moment. Hear me out” gesture.
“The most likely way to allow the creativity to flow, is to allow him the freedom to fuck up…‘He’…John’s A.I., needs to “feel” that he is autonomous, and needs to feel the angst and concerns that he felt when he was alive. He needs this in order to function as John.”
Since Ted had held his tongue, Martin continued his thoughts; outlined his plan.
“That’s why we agreed that we’d imbue them with a good grounding in History…this was primarily to give John’s concerns some legitimacy…He could check to see how the causes that interested him have fared. We need all this in him in order to leaven the prettiness of McCartney’s music. It’s all been implanted, but we need to nurture this mindset. It’s not a given… Not yet anyway.
Together, they wrote anthems for our Grandparents; music that they will take to their graves…Paul is upbeat and poppy, John brings him back down to earth so people can connect with them…them. We need John to be John, for Paul to truly buy in. It all needs to work for any of it to work. We need John to re-establish himself as the wild card. We need to allow that to happen. Because if it doesn’t, then I don’t think any of this will actually work.”
“Everything rides on this gamble. You’re sure?” Ted asked.
“Hell, no. But this is the best plan I can think of,” Martin responded.
Ted sighed.
“Okay. It makes sense. We’ve both studied them. If anyone would know…”
“It’d be us!” Martin finished.
Long ago, Ted decided that Martin was onto something. After all, he’d simulated a halfway decent George A.I. just for fun over a weekend for a party while they were still at Stanford a few years ago.
It was amazing how well George “connected” with the people at the party. He was clunky and the A.I. wasn’t really welltuned, but people…their friends in their 20’s were stimulated and excited by the possibilities.
This was when they began their arduous journey. And now, they were almost at their destination.
And when the final chord has been played…If it ever gets played… And the Beatles are again no more…What do I, what do we do for an encore? Will there be encore? Will they tour again? Will we create an A.I. version of Paul when he can no longer remember his lines…?
lll Ted’s chief of staff, ex navy seal, ex-Secret Service, addressed the rest of staff at the hidden, but rural Baltimore adjacent practice facility.
“There’s no president visiting but I want security as if he was…He isn’t here, is he? I mean not yet anyway. Are the FBI here yet? Maryland police can’t secure this entire place. We need the FEEBs to nail this place down, and to have them put their drones up to keep everyone else’s drones out. Is that clear?”
Favors upon favors had been called in and cajoled to make this part happen. Martin was surprised that it had turned out to be…sort of easy. It seemed that everyone wanted this. lll Martin stressed one thing to Ted again and again: “The key is to treat the A.I.’s as if they were the real people; and treat Paul and Ringo as if they were just a part of the band. Eventually, Paul and Ringo will (I hope) let down their guard and “play”… really play with their old band mates. The A.I.’s have the chops. I’ve written all the code. They can perform. We need all four to perform though, not just two and two…”
lll
Paul was last to actually show up for the first day of practice. Of course , Ted thought. Showing us that he is here, but doing us…doing the world a favor.
John and George were just sitting fiddling with their instruments, occasionally firing off a few notes in the other’s direction.
Paul stopped cold when he saw John and George tuning and picking out a few notes; with Ringo just sitting there fiddling with his drums.
John looked up and smirked.
“Tuning y’know…
> Ted leaned in to whisper in Paul’s ear.
“Y’can’t tell which one is real and which one almost real… can you?”
“Unbelievable!” Paul seemed impressed.
Ted pointed discretely.
“The place to look for flaws is at the edge of the image and also in the very middle. But you don’t see any flaws, do you? Sometimes the image has no “bulk” and you see through it and you disbelieve, but look, the couches have been modified to simulate someone’s weight. You don’t see any wrinkles, do you? The couch sags a bit under John’s weight; a bit less under George’s. You can walk right up to John and say hello. If you don’t touch him, you’ll swear that he is real. These are as close as you’ll ever get to those men this side of heaven.”
“Bloody hell.”
“Exactly. Sir Paul, can I help you with your basses?”
lll “Hello everyone. Welcome to Day One of your rehearsal dates. We hope to make you all comfortable and will procure anything your heart desires, but we strongly suggest that you do not leave.”
He’d noticed protesters being held out on the periphery of the property. They carried signs that read: “Disassemble the robots” - “A.I. is The Devil!” - “DON’T PERVERT The Beatles!!” and “UNHOLY fakes!” along with other less savory protests.
Ted looked around at the Fab Four, giving each the same degree of attention and diligence.
“Just to begin…Paul has a few new songs…He has suggestions about the parts you might play….”
Groans all around.
“Kidding…Just kidding.” In reality, I almost hope that they don’t write anything together. Think of the copyright nightmare that could become! The legal team have discussed that one well into the night with no resolution.
Paul looked at Ted and smirked.
“Funny, yeh.”
Ted smirked.
“I couldn’t resist. Sorry, Paul.”
Ted turned to everyone. “This is a preamble to a truly worldwide tour, like nothing the Beatles have ever attempted. And it’s mostly sold out already, so…kudos all around. You’ll be starting in Singapore, which is already almost sold out! We’re thinking of adding a second night. Then Sydney and Perth… From there Dubai, Mumbai, Tokyo…criss-crossing Asia, until we come to Europe…Brussels, London, Munich, Rome (and a meeting with the pope if you’d like), then to Rio, and then… America, where your most rabid fans are!”
And where the real money is!
“L.A., Dallas, Denver, Chicago…a dozen or so more cities until we finish up with four nights in Madison Square Garden!”
The significance of playing New York again was not lost on them. Even George quietly remarked, “I hope it won’t be like Shea. We couldn’t hear ourselves sing!”
John nodded vigorously in agreement.
“It’ll be different this time, boys, I promise you. Top shelf, all the way.”
lll While Paul was fussily picking through his stuff and selecting a bass, John got up. He carefully set his guitar in its stand and mumbled, “Going out for a smoke.”
Paul looked miffed. He looked at Ringo who seemed ready to start, then at George who was pointedly tuning his guitar, ignoring everyone.
Then Paul sat and started in with the distinctive bass intro from “Taxman,” George’s protest song from when he found out about his tax bill after the Beatles had made it big.
Well past where the guitars were to have come in, George allowed his guitar to make one (on key) chord, and set it down. “Old news, man. Let it go. I have…New priorities now, y’know?”
He too got up. Paul noticed that the cushioned chair where George was “seated” slowly regained its form. Paul reached out tentatively.
He touched the chair.
“It’s real,” he muttered. “Amazing.”
Ringo grinned and nodded as Paul got up and walked out of the room randomly touching items as he went along.
After a short while, Ted eventually began corralling each and bringing them back to the practice room. The few people standing around buzzed expectantly. Ted then cleared the room. “Out. C’mon. Out. Everyone. Give them some space.”
He closed the door and latched it, with himself outside.
A few people were waiting around to see if he’d cheat.
“Go! I’m leaving. See? Now, everyone leave them alone. Let them work!”
Then Ted went to sit with Martin in the CCTV room. It was part of Ted’s plan to have cameras hidden nearly everywhere- in the practice room, the lounge, the dining areas and the hallways…there were cameras and recording devices simply everywhere; every angle and every facial nuance…genuine or programmed. Ted needed reassurances that they were playing along, though; someone had suggested that since the cams were everywhere, all that rare footage of the four of them back together might be cut into a documentary.
Maybe, thought Ted. First things first. After a brief and mostly cursory run-through of a few songs from their first few albums, they took another break. Bickering had broken out in the first hour of the session. Understandable…Paul and Ringo have had careers well beyond
the Beatles…George and John have as well, but there isn’t the backlog of work…concerts…recordings. Hell, John was shot almost 40 years ago. Now he’s a crotchety 79-year-old, squabbling with Paul. It’ll take time and…patience to work together. I hope that Paul doesn’t decide to renege…I’d sue him and he’d laugh.
Martin looked at Ted. His eyes asked the question, “Is this over before it even started?”
Ted whispered back, “I don’t know. I hope this is just a rough beginning.
Ringo has mostly stayed out of the fracas, but even quiet George has asserted himself a few times as well in there.”
The Beatles were getting nowhere. It was as if they were arguing about the size and shape of the studio so they wouldn’t have to face each other and play after all these years.
“They, John and George, y’know, look great but there’s something off in his, John’s, sound, his timing. I can’t explain it, but it feels fake…It feels wrong.” Paul complained.
Martin had suggested that they start with the simple visceral rock-and-roll that originally launched their careers; the better to plumb old pathways and rediscover their kinship. Paul wasn’t seeing it.
I need 100 % buy-in or this was all for nothing!
“I hear you. Take five alright? I’ll…consult with someone…” I need to find Martin. Martin, we have a problem!
As he was walking around trying to clear his head, Martin noticed John sitting well away from everyone with Julian.
How did he get in here? He agreed to wait a few days to see his Dad. It’s in his contract…oh well, he’s here now and they seem to be connecting.
They seemed to be having a long intense heart-to-heart talk and both of them were crying a bit.
Just then, Paul appeared at Martin’s shoulder.
“Hmmm…Give ‘em a bit of priv-acy, y’know…John has some catching up to do with his soon.”
lll “Yoko is here. She is demanding admittance.” The guard looked pensive. Ted felt trapped.
“God. So many distractions…Okay. Do this. Give her my card…”
He dug a slick looking business card out of his pocket.
“Give her this. Ask her to be patient. If she will wait…say three entire days, then I promise to let her in. I’ll let her talk to anyone she wants; unlimited access. Other than that, she can sit out there until it starts to snow. Tell her that, but tell her that in a way where I don’t sound like a dick, okay? I just need to get some collective time for these guys…gotta give them time to reacquaint and then jell as a unit.
The guard looked intimidated. She was an old lady, but like John, she didn’t suffer fools. He took the card and nodded nonetheless, hurrying off.
There was an atmosphere of latent hostility in the practice room. Ted noticed it as soon as his hand let go of the doorknob and the door closed behind him.
They had jus
t finished a run-through, which had satisfied no one if he read the faces in the room correctly. John was slowly drinking a bottle of beer. Paul watched with fascination as the level in the bottle slowly went down in conjunction with John’s Adam’s apple bouncing up and down,as the liquid seemed to go down his throat.
“Guys, you did your best work together…”
Paul bristled slightly at that; everyone else listened. “Wouldn’t it be a once in a lifetime opportunity?” John spread his hands and looked up impishly. George
laughed; finally Ringo did as well.
“To take this opportunity, this…” Ted smiling at John’s witty
gesture, “This incredibly rare opportunity to create some great
music again?”
John gestured to Paul with his thumb, over his shoulder. “Paul’s still miffed because sometimes, when the publishing
credits went out, there was only room for one name. Since mine
was alphabetically earlier, mine was printed first. Sometimes his
was…omitted.
Paul heard but tried to remain impassive.
John turned to Paul. “Mate, if we write anything from now
on, I’ll make certain that your name is first, okay?”
Paul’s face softened a bit.
Ringo looked from one to the other as if surprised by this
behavior; George now looked serene, happy.
“That’s a nice thing that you did just there, John-O. Thank
you.”
The next session lasted about an hour and it went a bit better. George looked knowingly at Ringo and Ringo smiled as he
played, having a great time.
“That was great, guys…We have a staff of chefs here to feed you and make you happy and we’ll convene back here in say… two hours, for more rehearsal. It’s been a while and we want you to sound fabulous!”
lll Ted whispered to Martin in the Second Control room. “This is the biggest music story in 50 years, despite the fact that everyone under thirty yawns and focuses elsewhere. But the oldsters…The oldsters…the boomers, who grew up with this music were excited; excited enough to spend, spend, spend… on tickets, memorabilia and more. They are digging deep. They know that this is their only chance to experience this.”