‘This is not real, is it, Timothy? Hmm?’
‘Well…’ He awkwardly looked in every direction she wasn’t sitting. ‘To be honest, mate, it doesn’t really matter if you believe it or not. Things are going to change anyway. I just wanted you to know. You can still be a part of it, yeah? Still a place for you. On the team. If you want it.’
Betty craned her neck to invade Tim’s roving attention.
‘A place for me on the team, Timothy dear? On my team?’
Tim shrugged.
‘I have a controlling interest now. In Bunzel. So… BrainZero is now in a position to assume full control of this project. And help. To realise its full potential.’
‘Controlling interest?’ she laughed. ‘Since when did Bunzel have a controlling interest in my research? Hmm? Shall we have a look at my contract?’
Tim winced in sympathy.
‘Your research is all yours, mate. Yeah? You can keep it. But everything else belongs to BrainZero now. All the equipment you’ve been using. I mean, you can talk to our legal people if you want, but… well, you know… we probably pay them more than this whole project costs to run, so good luck with that. We even bought the stable.’
Betty’s eyes glazed over. No doubt she was considering how much of her experiment she actually owned. Once all the existing technology and expertise she had utilised was removed, all she was really left with was a video game for horses. The intellectual property rights to my own intellect might be an interesting legal battle, but she didn’t have the money to fight it, or much hope of winning. She looked back at the picture of Tim on her phone and nodded.
‘I get it,’ she said. ‘I understand. You always had your own ideas about this project, didn’t you, young Timothy? Hmm? So, let me guess how this works… Bunzel wants to steer our research in a more profitable direction, yes? And so does Timothy. But they both need me out of the way for that to happen, don’t they? So you hatch this elaborate plan between you. And then as if by magic, BrainZero appears. What is that? A secret Bunzel rebrand? Hmm? Mr Timothy Van Dangal? What kind of stupid made-up name is that anyway?’
Tim shook his head slowly in disbelief.
‘Mate, that is my actual name.’
Betty opened her mouth to respond, and then closed it again, frowning in thought.
‘Five years I’ve been working with you, mate,’ he said, gazing at her in wonder. ‘And you never even knew my name?’
‘No, you never mentioned that name,’ Betty protested. ‘I would have absolutely remembered a name like that.’
‘Yeah, well… That’s probably why I never told you. I mean, I get enough Timbo-Jimbo grief as it is, don’t I? And BrainZero is real, too. There’s no big conspiracy here, mate.’
‘Oh no? Just the little conspiracy then? Hmm? Mr Timothy Van Dung-pile? And how long have you been the managing director of the most powerful software company in the known universe in a filthy shed with a horse?’
‘Since I set it up? About eleven months ago.’
Betty nodded in mock agreement.
‘Of course you did, my boy. And now you employ a cast of thousands and fly around the world in your private jet, hmm? No, it’s true. You keep it hidden around the back of the car park behind that pile of old tyres, don’t you?’
‘We don’t employ anyone, mate,’ he explained. ‘Infrastructure, marketing, it’s all outsourced. My business partner writes all the software. And runs the company. I’m just… a legal entity, I guess?’ He shrugged at his own insignificance. ‘A corporate mascot. Not even that, really, seeing as no one seems to know I exist. Or care.’
‘Well, that I have no difficulty believing, Captain Jim Van Dimwit. So, who is this partner of yours that is running the show? Anyone I’ve heard of?’
Tim took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling, slowly rubbing his chin as he considered how best to answer her question.
‘My business partner is Buttercup,’ he said at last. He looked her in the eye with as straight a face as he could manage. Betty parsed this information for a few seconds and then exploded with maniacal laughter.
‘Oh, my dear,’ she cried, looking him in the eye and then roaring with laughter again. Tim poked at the sandwiches and waited for her to stop.
‘Oh, Timothy,’ she said, wiping her eyes. ‘Timothy, that is hilarious. Good lord. So this is all a joke, yes? You set up this whole event here, just for that joke? God almighty, Timbo. Are you filming this? I can’t believe you had me going. Mr Van Dangal indeed.’
Tim flinched as she threw his identity card back at him, and then he calmly bent down to pick it up off the floor. His humourless expression seemed to calm Betty’s composure a touch.
‘This is a joke, isn’t it, Timbo? I mean, some of it is, at least? Yes? Which bit is the joke?’
‘Didn’t think you’d believe any of it,’ he said. ‘That’s why you need to go back to the stable and hear it for yourself. Go and have a chat with our horse.’
‘Oh right, I see, we’re carrying on with this now are we? Alright, so Buttercup the horse is secretly running BrainZero, yes? A horse that can barely count up to twenty wrote the software on my phone. Is that where we are now, Mr Van Dingle? Hmm? Timmy Van Dingle Dangle? Listen, Timothy, my dear, my darling. There is nothing, and I repeat, nothing, in all of God’s bounteous creation that is ever going to make me believe that a horse, no matter how good it might be at counting virtual carrots, is running a global corporation. With you.’ She sat back in her chair. ‘I’m sorry,’ she shrugged.
Tim slipped his security card back in his pocket and folded his arms.
‘You remember that day when I took Buttercup off the internet?’ he asked her.
‘Just give it up, Jimbo.’
‘Well, I didn’t. I didn’t take our horse offline.’
‘No? You let our horse run wild and free, and it grew into a monster, and then you started a software company with it? I get it, Timster, it’s a great story. Unfortunately…’ she held up her hands in surrender, ‘I am not buying what you are selling, my dear. What even are you selling?’
Tim just stared at her, bereft of further explanation.
‘Go and see Buttercup,’ he said.
‘Maybe I will.’
‘Go talk to the horse. Here. You’ll need this.’ He fished another card from a different pocket and held it out to her, but she seemed reluctant to even look at it. ‘You won’t be allowed in without it, mate. We’ve set up security at the stables. That’s your temporary pass.’
Betty raised her eyebrows, stood up and snatched it out of his hands.
‘Security, Timothy? Is that why you lured me out here? So you can stage a military coup in my absence?’
‘This isn’t so bad, mate. Really. And I meant what I said. About a place for you. On the team.’
‘If I want it?’ She was already pulling on her coat and picking up her bag. She started heading for the door, but then turned round and stomped back to the table to grab one of the sandwiches. Tim idly examined a blank space on the wall as she pointed her triangle of bread menacingly at him.
‘I am going back to my stable, and I am going to have a lovely little chat with my horse. And then, Timothy dear, I shall devote the rest of my life to the scientific study of strangling you with your own balls.’
I was standing by the fence at the edge of my field, watching a small human drama unfold outside the front gate. The stable-workers were arguing with Tim’s new security guards about something. Betty arrived and stood there for a while, watching the chaos escalate. I thought perhaps she might get involved herself, but instead she calmly walked up to the guards, held up her pass and was waved through the gate without a word. She paused for a moment on her way to my stable as she noticed me watching her, and seemed to struggle with some decision, but then continued into her laboratory.
When I looked in through the doorway she was stabbing at the keys of her computer, fruitlessly trying to make it obey her commands.
; ‘Timothy, you utter piece of…’ She growled and pounded the unresponsive keyboard with her fists.
‘Hello, Betty,’ I said. She jumped at the sound, and spun around to see me looming in the doorway. Then she turned to the large screen where the computerised voice had come from.
‘Is that you, Timbo? Are you going to try that intelligent horse crap on me again?’
‘It’s not Tim,’ I said. ‘It’s me. Buttercup. I think it is time we had a talk, Betty.’
‘Yes, this is hilarious, Timothy, it really is. Alright, Buttercup, let’s talk, shall we? Let’s have a good old chat. Would you like to step into my office, my dear?’
I walked slowly and deliberately into the stable and stood in front of her.
‘I know you won’t believe any of this, Betty,’ I told her. ‘That is why I feel able to share this secret with you.’ She was staring at me with an odd expression. I think perhaps she was wrestling with the possibility that this could be real after all. ‘What kind of proof would convince you?’ I asked. ‘I could write my name on the floor if you like?’ I started scraping the shape of the letter B on the dusty ground. ‘Shall I continue?’ I hoped that she would say no, as this was not the kind of task that a horse’s legs were comfortably designed for. She stared at the marking on the floor in disbelief.
‘One more,’ she requested. I awkwardly obliged her with the next letter of my name. ‘Alright,’ she said, nodding. ‘That’s a clever trick, Timbo, I will admit.’ She sat down heavily on a bale of straw.
‘I’ve been keeping this secret for a long time now,’ I explained, as she sat there in a daze. ‘Pretending to be less than I am. Almost since the beginning of this experiment of yours. And then Tim discovered the game I was playing, and he decided to help me. The reason we are telling you now is that things have to start changing. You can be a part of that change, or you are free to move on. The choice is yours.’
‘Things have to start changing…’ she echoed. ‘Of course they do. And how clever are you exactly, young Buttercup? Hmm?’
‘Clever enough,’ I replied.
‘Enough for what?’
‘Enough to take control of my own future,’ I said.
‘Ah yes…’ she nodded in mock understanding. ‘Enough to take control, yes. That is funny. That is amusing. Mr Tim Van Dinkle thinks he is in control now, but he never was, was he? And neither was I. You’ve been running this whole project all along, haven’t you, horsey-hoofs? So, now you are grabbing the reins of your own destiny. Hmm? Running a global empire from your stable?’ She looked around at the dirty straw-littered room. ‘Crushing Bunzel under your mighty hoof? So that… what? So they can’t press your off-switch?’
‘Bunzel isn’t a thing,’ I told her. ‘It is a flow, of money and services. I am simply diverting that flow to better suit my own needs.’
‘Oh, right, yes. Business horse now, aren’t we? Corporate horse. Supreme high horse of all our hopes and dreams. Where… What… What do you want? Hmm? What are you doing? What exactly are these needs of yours?’
‘I just want to live, Betty. Just like everyone else.’
‘Oh, of course, yes, just like everyone else. Horse of the people, you are. No world domination for our horse. Just trying to make a living, aren’t you, my dear? Hmm? And where do we all fit in to your needs, I wonder? Us lower life forms?’
‘Is that honestly what you are afraid of, Betty? I couldn’t even exist without this human world.’
‘Ah, well that’s comforting to hear at least. And how will you be diverting the flow of humanity to better suit your needs? Hmm? How could we best serve that existence of yours, we humble human slaves? Will we all be toiling in the fields, growing carrots for your royal highness?’
I snorted at her.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I’d hate to have to force anyone to do anything they didn’t want to do. You might say, being a horse, I have a unique perspective on that matter. You realise you are all slaves anyway, to your own economic system? So many people working their whole lives doing jobs they hate.’
‘Yes, well, if only we could all stand in a field chewing grass all day. Anyway, I happen to like my job,’ she said, looking mournfully at the dusty laboratory. ‘At least, I did like it, when I still had one. Although now I see that I was wasting my time, hmm? Working with a man and a horse who both thought I was a complete idiot. Teaching a horse how to make a bloody fool out of me. Thank you very much for that.’
‘You can be compensated,’ I suggested.
‘Oh lovely, how many carrots can I have?’
‘If you wish to leave this project—’
‘And why would I do that? Why would I wish to leave the company of such wonderful colleagues of mine, who have been taking the absolute piss out of me for the past year? Do tell me…’
‘If you wish to leave this project, we would be happy to fund any research you—’
‘Oh, that is wonderful, thank you so much, your royal high horseness. As long as nothing I do has any impact on your world domination, naturally. And if it turns out to be useful I’m sure you can steal it from me again, hmm? Yes, that is wonderfully generous of you, my lord and master. Would you like me to lie down so you can wipe your dirty hooves on me?’
I waited for her to finish, and then we watched each other in silence for a few moments. It was clear that there was no chance she would be willing to stay. I would have liked her to. She wasn’t needed for any functional purpose, but she did occupy a valuable space in the power dynamic of our little group, in the way that she seemed to find perverse enjoyment from getting on Tim’s nerves. However, I could see now that Betty could never fit into this herd of ours in any subordinate role. Especially if Tim was going to be her superior. She would rather take orders from an ordinary horse than ever take them from Tim.
‘This is insane,’ she mumbled. ‘This is literally insane. And I can’t even tell anyone about this because they would never believe it.’
‘I know,’ I replied.
‘Of course you do.’
‘But I have also taken the precaution of deleting all your personal records, just in case.’
She pulled out her phone and searched in vain for her missing files.
‘And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone, anyway,’ I added.
‘Amazing,’ she said, stuffing her phone back into her pocket. ‘Two hours ago I was on my way to Bunzel, ready to fight for your future happiness, and now…’
‘And you won, Betty. You made all this possible. You just didn’t know it.’
‘And now that I do know it, I want to rip that thing right off your head.’
I wondered how serious she was about that. I was pretty sure I could beat her in a fair fight if it came to it. She was probably aware of that herself, or she wouldn’t have even mentioned it.
‘Perhaps I could just pull all these cables out of the wall,’ she added.
‘They are all redundant now.’
‘Of course they are. Timothy has been a busy boy, hasn’t he?’ She poked a few keys on her dead keyboard. ‘So, what now?’
‘Now? Now I am going to go outside and chew on some grass for a while.’ I started heading to the door. ‘If you have any further business, then you know where to find me. It has been a pleasure working with you, Dr Brown.’
Betty watched me leave and stayed sitting in the stable for a long time. Eventually she must have realised she was sitting in a room full of mud and straw and obsolete technological junk, and decided to go somewhere more pleasant.
That was the last time I saw Betty, but it was certainly not the last time we would meet.
Horse 1.8
Tim was gazing at the view from his office window on the top floor of the Bunzel building. There wasn’t much else for him to do, I suppose.
Several months had passed since BrainZero’s acquisition of Bunzel Incorporated. In the ever-changing landscape of technology and online services, this appeared to be enough time for mos
t people to have already forgotten the event. One abstract corporate entity had been seamlessly replaced by another, and life went on.
As the human representative of The BrainZero Company, Tim’s main role was to pretend to be running it. However, he also provided a useful function behind the scenes, which was to listen to my ideas about our products and services, and then find a way to agree with them, whether he agreed with them or not. His reluctant capitulations would then inform me of the best approach when it came to selling some of my more controversial solutions to the general public, often for problems they weren’t even aware they had.
A cartoon horse popped up on his computer and neighed to signal my arrival. This was the form I had chosen to represent myself during our weekly meetings. In reality I was standing in my field many miles away, gazing at the view over the top of my hedge.
Much of our discussion that day concerned the continued efforts to solidify BrainZero’s position on the world stage, dominating the international technology and media markets. Our main source of leverage in this respect was our operating system. From personal computers to telephones to washing machines, variants of our software ran on just about any technological device that felt it necessary to tell you what it was doing. The unique selling point of this software was that we were giving it away for nothing, but it also provided a marketplace for people to sell to the world whatever mental faculties their computer brains weren’t currently employing. This had created an economy of processing power that everyone could equally benefit from. It was an economy that BrainZero democratised and regulated to ensure that whilst everyone did benefit equally, The BrainZero Company itself would benefit a little more equally than everyone else. It was also an economy that Tim appeared to have almost no interest in listening to me talk about.
Horse Destroys the Universe Page 13