Masterbuilder
Chapter 8: Homeward Bound

Copyright© 2009 by White Zulu

In the morning Alfred showed us how to switch realities, emphasizing again that nothing could go wrong. It would work or not, as simple as that. We polished off all the perishables, tidied up the cave (No, Wilbur did the damn dishes this time!) and watched Alfred send off the empty containers, to be picked up from his pad by the suppliers.

We were quite a sad lot when we did our goodbyes. Watching Wilbur disappear in the blink of an eye was heart wrenching.

I hugged Alfred, thanking him once more for everything.

"Alfred, let me go next, please. I couldn't stand being left here after all we shared."

"Sure, Berthold, you go now. My thanks to you too. I will transport that knife home, as a memento. Go — do it now."

He turned away then, trying to hide his tears. He failed as much as did I and quickly I went.

Finding myself in my study, starkers of course, I got dressed hastily. My wife would think me a depraved pervert if she had to find me like that. Checked the time and date! Alfred had been true to his word, just a few minutes had elapsed, the date still correct. There is a mirror in the small anteroom to my den. The white crown was in place, and yes, I did look a lot younger, healthier and fitter. My tan was a dead give-away, too. How to face my wife?

In the end, I picked up the house phone.

"Listen, I will come up in a few minutes. Don't be surprised — I will look a bit different to you. Have some coffee ready, please, and a spike of something stronger would not come amiss."

I rang off before she could ask any questions and trudged upstairs after a while. Of course, she just stood there, not knowing what to expect from my cryptic remark.

"Oh my God, Berthold, what has happened to you?"

It was more than a whisper, an almost silent scream, as she looked at me with widely open eyes, both her hands clapped to her mouth, regarding me as one would an evil apparition, shrank away from me when I approached her, turned around, wailing, and ran upstairs to our bedroom.

I decided to just let her be for the moment, went to the kitchen, took the coffee things through to the lounge, together with a bottle and good-sized glasses for a restoring shot or two and sat down heavily in my chair. I felt utterly despicable to do this to her and yet could not think of any way to lessen the shock.

Most of the doors in our home are always open. I did not hear her come back but suddenly could feel her presence. I got up from my chair and went towards her.

"Come, dear, sit down. I have lots to tell you about Alfred, the island and myself."

She took to her chair, accepted the coffee I poured for her and, after a little hesitation, took a sip of the strong liqueur as well.

"Yes, you better tell me, before I flip my mind."

"First of all, everything we will be talking about now will have to stay between us. We may inform the children later, will have to tell them something I suppose, but no outsiders can ever hear of this. You must promise me. I insist."

The promise was given but reluctantly. It was obvious that she suspected some sinister, maybe even criminal goings on and, straight-laced as is her way, would not be part of that. After I reassured her that everything was quite fantastic but certainly aboveboard she settled down to hear my story.

The telling took us deep into the night. I did not allow for many questions to interrupt the flow, only occasionally clearing up a point for her. She was so spellbound we even forsook meals, making do with a few snacks in between, and yet I had only told her the bare outlines of the adventure.

She got most upset when I spoke about the healing, of course, how I very nearly lost it there, cursed Alfred with worse names than I did and was frightened out of her wits when I told her about the state of my health, as it was.

"Look, the physics of the whole thing are far beyond my grasp. Even with Wilbur explaining, and he is an excellent teacher, believe me, I could only follow a fraction of what he was telling me. But it does work, I am the proof of it and so are Alfred and Wilbur.

"Wilbur, well into his eighties, was the healthiest of us. And yet he probably benefitted the most because he was loathe to think about all those years of his life wasted teaching disinterested students, being forced to subordinate himself to a head of faculty who was his inferior in every aspect, scientific and humanely. Now he is a happy fifty years old, just as I am, and you wouldn't believe the silly ideas he gets into his head. He was entirely bald before but has now a crown of white hair just like me. He likes it, why don't you?

"Alfred was worse off than even I. He told me he had had just days to live, a month at the maximum, and that is why our healing was so exceedingly painful. It was also the reason for him being so pushy. His time was running out fast. After I managed to heal him he became exuberantly happy and yet very wistful. He realised then that we are still mortals and that nothing would save us in the end. How often we can go back and heal ourselves is something neither of us knows. We don't really want to know, but we agreed that the day would come when we wouldn't want to live any longer and would just let nature take its course. But we also agreed that we would meet again on the island, that it would be our place to enjoy for as often as we wish. And, you will like to hear this, we may bring visitors, whomever we like to take as long as we can make certain that our secret will be safe. What do you say, feel like a trip?"

By now, we were both tired. We went upstairs towards our bedroom and, as is our custom, my wife used the bathroom first. After I went for my side of the bed I could see that she checked my nude body closely.

"Do you approve, dear, or is there something else to fix?"

But she couldn't take my banter any longer.

"It's not fair. Now that you are young again, healthy and good-looking, where does this leave me? How long before you throw me out, before you find another, younger woman?"

Crying loudly, she buried her face in the pillow.

This was ridiculous and I told her so.

"Look, Elise, I can't throw you out. The house is in your name. And I don't want to go to all the hassle and housebreak a new woman either. You know me, I am too lazy and set in my ways. I did tell you, didn't I, about this odd little side effect of Alfred's cure? Aren't you keen to find out whether this is true or would you rather waste this splendid opportunity?"

Still sniffling, she turned into my arms and soon we found out to our mutual satisfaction that healing was complete beyond doubt.

After breakfast Elise insisted she wanted to see the island, now. Of course, I could not go there with her yet; a visual tour would have to do. I wondered as we went to my study whether the island had been updated with all the new features. But I needn't have worried, Alfred was ahead of me as always.

When I called up MasterBuilder® it was obvious from the version number that the programme had been updated in the meantime. How he could do it without the computer running was beyond me. But there it was: The Island.

"What do you want to do with your island?"

Silly question.

"Look at it, dammit. Show it to my wife."

"Good morning, Elise, and, yes, Berthold, I realise that there is not nearly enough heavy matter available to remake you completely. You will be stuck with your old obnoxious self forever. — How did you get hooked up with this lout, Elise? How can you stand him?"

"Well, Al ... is it alright to call you Alfred? Yes? Good morning to you then. Berthold hasn't had much of a chance yet to tell me everything about the lot of you in great detail, but from what I heard you could be identical triplets and to what heights your loony escapades will take you is anyone's guess. But I can live with Berthold; at least it is never boring near him. — But first, Alfred, I thank you from all my heart for healing him, saving him as it were and I am overjoyed to hear that you are healthy now as well. Thank you, thank you, dear man."

This was fantastic. I could draw a picture of Alfred squirming in his chair. My worst cuss words couldn't nail him as neatly as the 'dear man' did.

"Berthold, I will wipe that nasty smile off your ugly mug yet. I shall combine forces with Wilbur to pay you back. You just watch out!

"Elise, did that scoundrel tell you that he had to heal me twice over? He did not? Make him open up about it and yes, I do agree after all that there is more to Berthold than meets the eye, not all of it good though."

Before I in turn had to resort to squirming I told Alfred to let's cut the pleasantries because Elise might get the quite fallacious impression that we did in fact like each other.

Alfred wasn't slow to take it from there.

"Elise, come with me, let's go on a tour. Bear in mind, though, that this is not a movie but a window into our alternative world. Interrupt me as often as you wish, ask any question you like and I will answer and if you want to see something from close up just say so. You will enjoy it I am sure and Berthold will eventually, after some preparations, take you here."

The silly twerp had an even sillier image of him superimposed over a frontal view of our hills, standing in the entrance of the cave, outfitted like a cut-rate circus director, complete with top hat and gloves and whip and even a pencil-thin black moustache stuck askew onto his upper lip. The only thing missing was a mangy lion snapping at his feet.

"Oh God, Berthold, he looks more like you than do your own brothers."

"Shh."

With a great bow, a sweep of his hat and cracking of whip Alfred exclaimed pathetically.

"Dear Elise, leave your worries, and old Berthold, behind and come fly with me, the great Alfred Alfredino, conqueror of the unknown, beyond compare in this universe and beyond."

He was good, he was very, very good. He made it look as if he jumped right into the air and took us on a fly-over, circling the hills, swooping gently to give Elise a closer view of the eagles, soaring up again and out over the bay only to come inland in a long slow glide, showing the kangaroos, the ostriches, hovered a few feet over the tortoises who looked back at us sleepily and got on quite unperturbed with their tortoisely business of chewing up the greenery. Yet he was so gentle in his movements that we had no feeling of vertigo or airsickness at all. All this beauty enthralled Elise till she laughed aloud when Alfred took her to the gym. There was now a huge sign fastened to a bole: Berthold' s Folly. Of course I had told her of our pranks and Alfred made out as if he was jumping onto a branch and had trees swinging back and forth. However, when he stood unmoving over a certain spot on the beach so we could read the inscription on a plaque fastened to a certain round boulder, Elise gripped my hand tightly.

"Here would lie today the bleached remains of Alfred, unmourned by many, were it not for the supreme fleet-footedness and healing skills of one Doktor Eisenbart. Hail!"

"You have to tell me about it, Berthold," she whispered.

"Sh, not now!"

"Alfred, Berthold won't tell me. I have to know what happened here. Please. It will help me to understand you chaps better."

"I will tell you eventually, Elise, but Berthold is right, now is not the time for it. Come, let us fly around the island once more and then I have to talk to him about computers and things."

Much like we do with those new-fangled map programmes he zoomed us up to a couple of metres over the hills, flew close to the entrance of the cave, swooped past the waterfall, brilliant in the midday sun, and pointed out animals, Wilbur's pond too, and then he took us some way out over the sea to let us see the island from afar. The view was beautiful beyond description.

Elise cried silently over it all till she said resolutely.

"Alfred, will you take me there? I want to experience the island life, feel the breeze in my face, hear the birds, listen to the water. And I want to meet you — will you take me?"

Alfred was almost choked up with emotions.

"Elise, Berthold will take you as soon as possible. The island now belongs to you as well. Let me talk to him on how we go about it. Please be patient, you won't regret it, I promise. Good day, Elise."

When Elise left my study reluctantly, mentioning that Alfred looked so frail yet utterly alive, not at all what she had come to expect, I took over.

"Thanks, Alfred, for the grand tour. You now have a new follower. But you shouldn't have done the stunt with the plaque. Elise will worry me about it all the time. As it is, she thinks I am withholding a lot, but doesn't seem to realise that I have only been 'home' for a day and there is so much to tell. But when we are ready for her, she will enjoy it immensely, of that I am certain. Well, Alfred, what can you tell me about computers?"

He told me that he had gone ahead and bought a new Mac for me in New York, fitted it out to his requirements and had it air freighted already to a Mac store hereabouts. He maintained to have better control this way.

"Can you pick it up there, Berthold? I would hate for it to get lost somewhere. All hardware is upgraded as necessary, even the heavy stuff is installed and password protected on a special drive. I will send you the password as soon as you finish setting it up at home. Nobody should mess with it, but to protect everything I sealed the housing. Please check all the seals carefully. Do not accept the computer if any of them are broken. If it has been tampered with in any, even the slightest way, make them send it back. They are aware of this condition and have agreed to it."

"Alfred, I am paying for this. You must give me your banking specs so I can transfer the money."

But he just laughed it off, claiming he had had a look at his bank statements for the first time in ages and couldn't believe how loaded he is.

"It appears that one of the more lugubrious war games of mine is a huge success amongst the great unkempt masses of shoot-'em freaks. There is also a nice little clause in my contract saying that I get substantial royalties once production costs are recovered. Wilbur had me put it there.

"Just fetch the damn thing, Berthold, set it up, install your own programmes on the main drives and when you are ready, call up MasterBuilder® and we will take it from there. In the meantime you have to prepare Elise. You can really tell her everything. There are no secrets between us, but I understand it if you don't want to talk about the little beach incident. I will do that when the time is right."

It is hell to deal with a guy who is not only many times richer than you but also smarter by multiple times that margin. I accepted his conditions as sine qua non and told him that I would pick up the computer as soon as it arrived.

Quite often I am baffled by the great speed, even haste, which has become such a dominant part of our existence. We travel by fastest means available to places we want to leave as soon as possible, send e-mails, messages and faxes, make the phone companies rich with hours of mindless babble on our treasured cell phones and yet rare are the instances where speed is really important. Two days after my talk with Alfred the computer store guys phoned to tell that they held a computer for me: what to do with it? This was such an instance — I was impatient to the extreme to set it all up so Elise could share my island.

Together with Elise I set out for M. to pick up the computer the next day. Traffic was bad on the open road and worse in the city but eventually we reached the store and pushed our way in through a bunch of graceless, unmannered kids hovering about the laptops, notebooks, iPhones and iPods, popping obscene pink lumps of chewing gum, shouting loudly and rudely that they would insist on getting this, that and the other, all of it, for Christmas. If based on merit, all they should get is a broadside up their impertinent fat arses to move them to wherever work or studying is to be done. Thank God they weren't of my brood.

The guy at the counter confirmed that the computer had indeed arrived, but that they would have to check it out before I could take delivery.

"No, you don't want to check it out. Read your shipping instructions a little bit closer. It will say there that the machine is sealed and that you are not to tamper with it."

"But, Sir, we have to check everything that leaves our store. That is our policy. Otherwise the warranty would be voided."

"Please, don't try my patience. The computer is paid for, shipping costs included. You are just acting as a transferring agent for handing it over. However, if you insist, you may check the currency rating as this can be done from the outside. Further than that, no way! And never mind the warranty."

He made a great show of it. Taking the computer out of the box as if he was unveiling the Holy Grail, he turned around towards the workshops.

"This computer stays. You do your little checking here or not at all. Once again, read the bloody shipping instructions."

His act foundered immediately. Right at the top note was a nice red label:

"Attention. This unit has been sealed after custom fitting. Do not break any seals. Voltage rating has been set to 240 V/50 Hz. Warranty rights have been adjusted with the customer."

There was even a reference address. Some tech shop on East 37, New York, I think. While he stared at the label as if perusing the updated version of the Ten Commandments, I made certain that all the seals on the computer were intact. But the flunky didn't give up easily.

"I will have to see the manager about this. Wait here."

Again he was going to take the computer with him. I held fast, however, till Elise had enough.

"Young man, you appear to be extraordinarily dense. Now I insist that you call the manager. Don't burden yourself any longer with heavy thoughts of your own importance. Get the man, now, and after you have accomplished that enormous feat, find a rubber stamp or two to play with."

Sulking, the slave trundled off to soon reappear with a cadaverous looking chap who surprised us by his cheerful bearing.

"Good day to you, what seems to be the problem?"

I explained to him that the computer standing before us was intended for me, showed him my passport even, that it was custom-fitted and checked and paid for in New York (import duty included) and sealed after that. I didn't have to show him the label. He saw it immediately, read it and sent off the clerk.

"Talk to you later," was all he said to him. "I am very sorry and I do apologise. The man is so insecure, he can hardly do anything without a little piece of paper telling him how.

"Okay, there should be two more boxes here. One with the display and the other with some peripherals as per this list. Kevin?"

Yes, I know. Everybody names his or her sons Kevin nowadays. Or Maik (take note of the cool spelling!). Full name is probably Kevin Maik Grammelhuber or something even more rustic. Good old Karl or Friedrich, do not call me Fritz, just won't do any more. Of course, if you want to be totally with it names have to be biblical, Old Testament to be precise. You stumble over the most improbable Leas, Rachels and Sarahs, Benjamins, Noahs and Samuels all over Europe but Germans are especially thick with them, they being the most embarrassingly schizophrenic lot by far.

"Get the two other boxes. You signed for them on this note. Where are they?"

Poor Kevin turned beetroot red, stammered something and hustled off.

The boxes he brought eventually I did check very carefully since the packing seemed a bit in disarray. All was in good order, however, so I signed off on it.

The manager agreed with me that everything was there but remarked offhandedly.

"I say, this computer is extraordinarily heavy. More than 15 kg over the normal weight. Do you mind if I ask what extras are inside?"

Good question of course and very astute, but I only mumbled something about a couple of extra drives and more muscles for the power supply.

"Ah well, I do hope you will be satisfied with it. They are great machines. You can achieve anything with them. Bring your car round and we will help you load it all. Drive home carefully and do visit us again."

And that was that. A very sullen Kevin did the loading but had decided we were not on speaking terms any longer. Not the best of his days I am sure and definitely more evil to come for him if I did read the boss right.

Setting up the computer took only a few hours the following morning. I had been right about the additional drives. There were three more than is standard. As far as I could make out, two of those were just additional storage, while the other one, 2 TB no less, was password protected. Sorting out net access, e-mail, programmes, installing a few hundred fonts, transferring files and the like took me some time. In the end, I was a very happy operator. The display was a huge beauty and easy on the eyes, the machine quick as lightning even when I chased a few heavy filters over some large pics of mine. Work would be a pleasure.

Time to talk to the masterbuilder.

"Alfred, are you on line?"

"Yes, Berthold, have been for a while. Are you ready for the set-up procedures?"

"Alfred, thank you very much. This computer is a joy to work with, So far, I have only installed all the things I need and haven't even tried to peep into the huge drive you had installed for MasterBuilder®. But everything works just as it should, only better and faster than I expected."

"Very good, you are welcome to enjoy it as much as you can. Unfortunately, all is not well here. Wilbur and I picked up a bit of bother. Nothing too serious so far, but it means we will have to take some precautions. Tell me, was there anything unusual when you collected the computer? Anything at all?"

"The seals on the computer are all intact, but yes, there was. The cartons containing the display and the peripherals had been tampered with. I made certain to check everything, though, and couldn't find anything out of order. The store clerk responsible received a severe dressing down from the manager and may well have been fired over it. Oh, and the manager made a remark about the unusually heavy unit and asked what I had installed. I told him about a few additional drives. I made no mention of anything else."

Alfred made me tell everything, word for word as far as possible, had me describe the manager even. At the end of my story he was most upset.

"Damn, Berthold, this is serious. I know you've a webcam connected. Please aim it at the back of the display. Stay away from the keyboard while I check this out. — Right. Now look at the screws on the back. Can you see that they have been loosened and refastened after manufacture? The little nicks here and there? OK, disconnect the display and open the back please. I want to have a look at the insides."

I did as told and took off the back carefully, again turning the reverse of the display towards the cam. Immediately I heard Alfred sigh heavily.

"I am sorry, Berthold, bad news I'm afraid. I suspected that somebody might try something, therefore the sealed unit. I didn't think that they would tamper with the display; my fault, I underestimated the enemy. There is a tracker installed which will monitor, and transmit, damn it, everything you do on this machine."

"For God's sake, Alfred. What are you talking about?"

"Listen closely, Berthold, this is what happened. At the moment, Wilbur is hiding out at the island. There was some initial probing by that damn professor. Apparently he is not quite as dumb as we thought and had second thoughts about our funny questionnaire. He had some of the students check the set-up at the university. They could not find anything out of order, of course. We had moved all sensitive stuff off campus a long time ago. But they found the enormous power supply and the hook-up to the mains still in place. Careless of us and quite unforgivable.

"But the main problem is that our government is now part of the picture. Called in after the prof spilled his story to the dean, not quite admitting that his experiments were a fraud, and that it appears we rode piggyback along with him. Wilbur was questioned and didn't like the looks of things. So he decided to shift himself to the island before anything could happen. I emptied out his house as quickly and quietly as I could and, after moving my entire set-up to a safe place, trashed my apartment completely, making it look as if somebody unofficial got in first. Wolf time, my friend. I even splashed a copious amount of my precious blood around. Enough of it to make them think I might have been killed. At least I hope so. There is one tiny blessing in the fact that nobody saw me after my makeover and I am since listed as missing. Wilbur, however, was a different story altogether. He is being branded as thief, a traitor to the cause of science and worse. I am hiding for the time being, maybe forever. So, Berthold, I have to say I am very sorry one more time, but you are now compromised as well. Here is what we have to do."

Alfred told me to keep away from the keyboard, as he would now deactivate first the tracker, then the special drive. Once finished, he would tell me how to extract the sealed unit of MasterBuilder® and to take out the special drive as well. After that the computer would have to go back via the original route.

"Can you think of a safe place for the unit? Away from your property? I do not want you to destroy anything as this is the strongest, best set I have made yet and you will want to use it of course when times are better."

"Alfred, I am sorry to hear about our worries and hope Wilbur is not suffering on the island. Please let me help in any way I can. I have to consider what a safe place could be. I have various options, it should not be a problem. We must act immediately I think. And we should bring the weight of the lightened computer up again, even if I have to use a bit of lead to do that. I have plenty in the house and smelting is not an issue. Do you know off-hand what the exact weight is? My scales are not powerful or accurate enough to measure it."

"Good thinking, Berthold. We will do that once I am finished. We have to hurry though. You may watch the screen to see what I am doing if you like, but you may also join Elise, as it takes quite some time. You will stay? Good, let me start. We can talk while I am doing this. It is good to have company now."

On-screen I could follow his actions quite clearly. First of all, he isolated the tracker and put the transmitter in sleep mode. He deactivated the drive after entering the password '1dNalSi1' and told me to forget about it as soon as possible.

"We will most certainly not use it any longer, since I don't know at what stage the computer was compromised. I have hidden another password inside the programme itself and the source code is still safe."

After this, he told me to remove the seals carefully.

"You will need at least one undamaged sample. I will tell you how to make the mould later on. You did say that you have lead available, didn't you? Whatever for?"

"Hell, Alfred, this is a leftover from hot-metal days. Trays and trays of type, Linotype slugs, even some Monotype and Ludlow. I had the idea of using the type to hand-set and hand-print a few of the better aphorisms out there on nice paper, to be used as gifts or even for sale. No matter, this is a much better use for the stuff."

Removing the seals was surprisingly easy. I just used a penknife to split them in half and put them aside. The wires were reusable as well. Even though I wasn't familiar with this newest line of Macs, I spotted his 'unit' immediately. It was directly attached to the topmost of the drives and would come out with it after loosening only six holding screws and disconnecting power and signals. Its housing was designed to fit the space exactly and looked like it was an integral part of the computer.

"Berthold, sever all connections, undo those holding screws and slide out the complete unit. Careful, it is very heavy, 15.835 of your kilograms to be exact, so you better not drop it on your toes."

I managed to do as he told me. Weight was indeed a bit of bother but nothing I couldn't handle. Tucking it away I asked Alfred about what to do next.

"Is there a computer store near you? Where you could buy a drive exactly like the one you just took out? Minus the MasterBuilder® of course. Take a note of the specifications with you. How fast could you do it?"

"Alfred, it's about an hour's drive, one way, and not an Apple store but I can do it right now. I hope they got it in stock, though."

"Please go and get it now, Berthold, if you don't mind. It's not an uncommon drive at all, they should have it. In the meantime I will check the computer meticulously to make sure no other evils will bite us later. See you soon."

 
There is more of this chapter...

To read this story you need a Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In or Register (Why register?)

Close
 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.