The Black Hand Gang

by David Edwards

  Jack ruffled Timmo’s hair. ‘Are you really okay bro? I was so worried about you.’

  Timmo smiled at his brother, he loved Jack and always wanted to impress him and so although his leg ached terribly he smiled and answered positively. ‘I’m fabtastic thanks and also I am starving. So if you push me, Techno’s waiting outside to show us to the KFC!’ They all went outside and followed Techno with Jack pushing Timmo in his wheelchair and went to eat before a long and much needed sleep.

  * * *

  The next morning they were rudely awaken by a loud klaxon fastened above their room on the girder holding the lights. As soon as it finished the loudspeaker blurted out a well known tune. “God Save The Queen”, which was meant to encourage them to leave their beds. Instead five out of five of the English children buried their heads under their pillows.

  Then came an announcement. ‘The welcome party is at 10 am in the main restaurant. Please be prompt.” It was repeated three times and then they heard the echoes of other national anthems and the same message in many other languages as other cells of children were woken up. None of the five washed or brushed their teeth except Kate, who kept complaining to the boys about their poor oral hygiene and “BO” but the boys were eager to sample the breakfast before the party and positively ran to the restaurant buffet to jostle with a hundred other excited children. It was a scrum around the favourites such as coco pops and croissants that appealed to most of the western nationalities but MM had catered for all the different countries around the world. The Japanese could choose from many styles of fresh raw fish and rice, the yanks ate pancakes with maple syrup and the large crowd of Indians tucked into a steaming bowl of chicken curry with a separate helping of Pilau rice.

  As the children milled around, they found the common language was English but not everyone spoke it and so there were a few dozen young men dressed in red overalls who they soon learned were interpreters attached to a particular group, a particular nationality. The excitement was intense, the English were the last players to arrive at the volcano and now they would all meet her, Madam Musseine, the greatest gamer in the world.

  Suddenly the lights dimmed and the chatter immediately quietened down. At the end of the dining room was a small stage with Techno, Twip Twop and a large ugly brute of a man standing with his arms crossed. Music boomed out of the speakers above them, it was “We are the Champions” by Queen. The children started to bang their plates and dishes on the tables in time to the emotional beat. It was their song, the best gamers in “world domination”. The excitement built to a crescendo and then there was a gigantic explosion as fireworks fizzed across the front of the stage. As the blue smoke cleared, there she was, MM, the favoured one.

  Timmo sniggered ‘God she’s ugly!’

  Roger answered ‘And fat.’

  But it was Jack who summed her up. ‘And the most evil person in the world.’

  Madam Musseine opened her arms wide to embrace the loud cheers. Her long black sleeves and flowing trousers partially hid the “globulous” fat as it wobbled on her giant frame. Lifting a microphone to her lips she spoke. ‘You are the chosen few,’ the crowd screamed in delight. ‘You are the best gamers in my world.’ Another scream rent the air and as it died away she continued in a deep voice, emphasising each word as they reverberated around the cavern. ‘Only you have been invited into my volcano as the elite players brought from the four corners of the earth. I welcome you, I salute you; you are the chosen ones. Be thrilled,’ she let their loud cheers subside, ‘be prepared to play a new game, a more exciting game, a more interesting game.’ Her voice had risen to a roar, ‘world domination two ooooo.’ The enchanted crowd of children screamed with hysterical delight apart from the five English who were “in the know”. She continued, her powerful voice was mesmerising. ‘It will feel just like the real thing!’ Another even louder scream reverberated around them all.

  Suddenly, flashes of green lasers zipped across the walls of the volcano in a myriad of patterns representing dozens of four-fingered hands. The lasers penetrated the gloom and danced their lance-like shapes across the roof. Spotlights merged their colours high above the throng. Red and yellow mixed to form a splat of orange on the rock. Blue and red to leave a purple spot.

  ‘It will be the real thing,’ said Jack, ‘that’s why she has brought us here. The best gamers in the world will play for real assets in the real world and she will end up controlling the world’s financial markets.’

  Roger nudged him. ‘Careful there may be snitches in the crowd and anyway I think you are wrong.’

  ‘What?’ Jack was never polite.

  ‘It is not about control. She wants the economies of the world in freefall, a financial meltdown.’

  ‘Why would she create that splodger?’

  ‘Remember what Wolf told us. “When the Nazis took over Germany before World War ІІ, they built from nothing. The country was in a mess, destitute and broke. That’s her plan, rip it all apart and then she will rebuild it and therefore control it all. World domination for real and as you say – certainly not a game.’

  Marshall added his opinion. ‘That means she must have allies on the outside. Friendly countries who want and demand a greater say in the world.’

  Jack was staring intently at the mad, bad figure on the stage. ‘True, but we may never find out who they are. We just have to stop her. After all, we are not just kids, we are SAS agents.’

  Kate remonstrated. ‘Children please, we are not baby goats!’ They all laughed, it never failed to rile her even as they stared at Madam Musseine who disappeared in a puff of black smoke to more loud cheers.

  * * *

  The restaurant was buzzing with excitement. Dozens of conversations in dozens of languages raised the volume level and as the children couldn’t hear each other properly, they started to shout and scream louder at their friends as most of them opted for second breakfasts. That was when the Germans started to throw their hard black bread at the French. Unfortunately, they had accidentally sat alongside each other and as with their nations when revamping the European Treaty, they always wanted to express a difference in opinion. It was rumoured later that a German boy had insulted a French one by implying he should only eat snails for breakfast. Jean-Claude had retaliated by suggesting the German boy called Wolfgang should be eating frankfurters washed down with beer. Maybe the stereotyping would have been alright if each had seen it as a light-hearted joke but the Swiss contingent joined in by suggesting muesli would be better for them both as it was healthier. So the black lumps of bread were thrown, croissants were thrown back and mini bars of chocolate and “babybels” were interspersed in the crossfire.

  Life in the volcano was already in chaos, 100 children and no parents was a recipe for disaster until Biceps and twenty ninjas stepped into the middle of the throng. Well actually, the ninjas cart-wheeled across the tables between the groups and performed double somersaults before assuming the wide-legged fighting stance. Biceps leaped onto a central table and bellowed at the top of his voice.

  ‘Stop you morons!’ Whether it was the awe of the ninjas or Biceps crash of a voice, no one will know, but all the messing about stopped immediately. The hulk looked around, cowing the children in fear. ‘Follow your interpreters it is time to play the new game.’

  The red boiler suited men rounded up their groups and led them to the AICs. The English sat in silence waiting to see what would happen, and then Techno walked towards them and asked them to follow him. ‘You have special privileges as the world’s top players.’

  He led them to the very back of sector one and stood next to his personal AIC. The shell glowed green to mark it out as special from the dull white fibreglass of the others. Groups of children were being trained in the use of the controls, they stood to the side of the pods and listened to the interpreters who now acted as instructors.

  Timmo spoke up. ‘Why are the instructors bald?’

  Techno replied. ‘Because it help
s them connect to the computers using my unique design. The encephalitic input/output device. It is 100 times faster than using a keyboard.’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Jack ‘You’re not suggesting shaving all my hair off are you?’

  ‘No way. I won’t do it. Anything but my hair.’ It was Kate. She was positively swooning at the thought.

  ‘No my English friends. You don’t need to use the brain hugger like the technicians. Only they will have skin with hideous and protruding scabs.’

  He looked over at Marshall as he asked him a further question. ‘So the interpreters are technicians, that’s why they can train us?

  ‘Yes Marshall but for the game, I repeat, the use of the keyboard is sufficiently fast.’ All the children sighed with relief. ‘However, I have a special surprise for you five. You will form a neural network with me to enable you to learn the new game more quickly. You have to consider me as the enemy and try to beat me as best you can. Five against one. Are you willing to take my challenge?’

  ‘You bet,’ said Roger and Timmo in unison and they all climbed into the AICs that surrounded Techno’s. They started to play the game, “world domination two”. Each giant screen was divided into four sections and were labelled as the top stock market names in the world. The FTSE from England, The Dax from Germany, The Dow Jones from America and The Nikkei from Japan. On this version of the game, they were restricted to playing with a single commodity in one session. Firstly they battled over gold and watched the graphs mark their progress in the world markets. Then they tried silver and finally four hours after starting their battle with Techno, they were trading in platinum. Suddenly their screens went blank and Techno called them out of the AICs.

  ‘That was excellent play, gamers. You tried hard but failed to beat me. Does anyone know why?’

  They were shaking their heads until Marshall piped up. ‘Because you designed the game and therefore you can anticipate all of our moves.’

  ‘Exactly Marshall. I counteracted your moves before you even made them. That is the key to the new version. Think three moves ahead. But that is enough for a while, go for lunch and I will see you later.’

  The children trundled away and over lunch they compared their performances.

  Only Roger remained thoughtful. ‘You know what happened this morning?’

  Timmo replied. ‘Yes of course, we tried the new game and he tested us to see if we were better than him.’

  ‘No, I have a theory. I think we played on the real stock markets and he controlled our output so that he could see what impact we really had, on real commodity prices. It was a live test.’

  Jack intervened. ‘If that’s right Splodger we need to move fast. If all 100 children are trained over the next few days and are neutrally networked the world markets will fall apart within a few hours of the terrorist’s cyber attack.’

  Techno walked into MM’s private office on level one. She was sat watching the red figures dancing across the twelve TV screens in front of her. Each screen was tuned in to the three commodities of gold, silver and platinum on the four main stock markets. She turned to him.

  ‘The results are brilliant Techno.’ She didn’t compliment him, only the results. ‘The children with your guidance and programs have made the commodities plunge 20 per cent after a morning’s work. Imagine what will happen on MD day.’ She cackled and rubbed her hands together.

  ‘Can I see my mother MM?’ He knew she was being held hostage on level two but didn’t know where. ‘Now I’m back, I’d like to see her...please?’ He was whining and knew it but couldn’t stop himself.

  She considered the appeal. In three days time his job would be terminated. Her geek in America could take over her enterprise systems from the new control centre in Japan and Techno could be dispensed with – that was a job for Biceps. It wouldn’t hurt to see his mother, psychologically it might keep him under her control. After all she had his brother, not that he realised.

  ‘Of course my dear, of course.’ She buzzed Biceps using her IPhone6. ‘Meet Techno at the west side of level two, where our special guest is enjoying our hospitality.’ She turned away from him and started to watch the screens again and dream of controlling the world.

  * * *

  Biceps was waiting by two ninja who were guarding door 44. Few people knew what lay behind the grey steel doors on the west side of level two but he was one of them. It was his area, a place of torture and imprisonment, somewhere you never came out of...but Techno was oblivious to the danger. He just wanted to see his mum. He watched as Biceps input the code to unlock the door, immediately it swung against the cave wall with an almighty clang which made Techno jump in fear. Biceps laughed at him and made sure he slammed it shut after they had entered to scare Techno a second time. Techno was on edge, he had never been so worried about his future, his life, and although he had told no one, he didn’t want all these innocent children corrupted by his evil mistress. He had lost his mum and dad and couldn’t remember his brother and therefore his emotions were stirred by the sight of all the child prisoners.

  Biceps pushed rudely past him and led the way down a series of stairs. Eventually they ended up at a door numbered 444. Biceps placed his thumb on the mini ID screen by the lock and it hissed sideways on its pneumatic hinges.

  He bowed mockingly to Techno. ‘Your wish is my command Techno.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘No don’t thank me. Thank Madam Musseine and by the way, be quick.’ Biceps stood to one side and closed the door using the thumbprint reader after Techno had passed through it. Inside wasn’t a cell, not even a single room. It was a suite of four rooms. A lounge, a bathroom, a kitchen and a bedroom. Not grand, but nice. Very clean and also warm. As he looked into the bathroom he noticed the fire detectors on the ceiling and guessed the quarters would have secret cameras and microphones. He realised he needed to be careful what he said as he glanced inside the kitchen and then the bathroom. Mrs Hines was sat on a green leather sofa watching Sky news in the lounge. The Sky finance team were discussing the meltdown of the commodities market and explaining that no one could explain why it had occurred. Techno looked at her, she had aged badly in the ten years since he had left. She was worn out, her hair was grey, her face thin and her eyes were red and tired. Why had he made her suffer so?

  ‘Mum.’ His voice trailed off into a sob as she looked up.

  ‘Robert? Is that really you Robert?’ They met halfway between sitting and standing and hugged, tears were pouring down their cheeks. It took five minutes before they could talk sensibly, as they sat holding hands on the sofa.

  ‘Why are you here Robert?’

  ‘I work for the owner of the volcano. I have done since I left East London.’

  ‘Work? What sort of work?’

  ‘Technical stuff, computers and things.’

  She had found an inner courage since her imprisonment. ‘They say I can leave if their mission is successful. Soon they say.’

  He thought about it. ‘No one ever left here alive mum.’ Stroking her hair, he made her a promise. ‘But you will be back in London soon mum, no more than a week I hope.’

  She smiled at him but was still sad. ‘The big hulk.’

  ‘Biceps is his name.’

  ‘Yes the big ugly one told me to behave or’ she shuddered, ‘or Marshmallow would be hurt.’ It was her pet name for his brother.

  ‘Who is Marshmallow?’

  ‘Your brother Marshall. He’s also here!’ She tapped the side of her head with her fingers. ‘Of course you don’t know we changed our names. Your brother is Marshall Hines.’ Techno went completely white and sat back against the arm of the sofa. His heart had stopped for a moment with the shock. It took a minute before he could breathe. He gasped several times. How could he be so stupid. A four year old would be 14 by now, it was obvious. A little boy nicknamed Marshmallow had become Marshall. Techno was white with fury. He kept his head down, looking away from the secret cameras.

  ‘Do
n’t worry about Marshall mum. He’ll be fine. Trust me, I’ve seen him.’

  She grabbed his shoulders. ‘Is he okay? Where is he.’

  ‘Don’t worry mum I’ve spoken with him. He is happy and well. But this time, trust me, because nothing is more important than my family.’ He hugged her close again and promised to return and then her grown-up boy was gone. She sat and listened to the news. The stock markets had gone mad and plunged for no apparent reason in four different countries over the 12 hours it took for the sun to pass over them.

  * * *

  Jack, Kit Kat, Marshall and Splodger had spent the afternoon and early evening in sector four and had been playing on the 4-dimensional reality games. The best was “combat 6”, where all four stood on a 10 metre square matrix, wearing specialist helmets to feed in the real images with sound and the 4th dimension – reality. There was nowhere else in the world that such a system existed, although Microsoft had been rumoured to be developing something similar. The reality was from Techno’s mind and most of the software had been stolen from the huge US corporation. Into each battle scene, he had fed a random set of parameters taken from actual events in the last Iraq war. This included suffering from foot rot to blood sucking spiders piercing their trousers and sucking their veins dry. So as they moved around on the mat, they fought through the 3D scenes presented in their helmets as if in real life and then with a reality twist. All of them thought it was fabtastic but had to be careful to tone down their fighting moves or questions would be asked. A child leaping two metres into the air would have certainly been unusual. Caging their natural instincts was tough but essential as Wolf had advised them to keep the power suits on at all times. The underwear might save their lives.

  Timmo had been bored. He played a few games in the arcade in between watching the others on the “combat 6” mat. He watched them scale the indoor climbing wall with ease, when everyone else failed around them was failing and when they had resolved to explore the volcano he had reluctantly agreed to stay behind.