The Augusta engines revved to a scream making the rotor thump the air above them and then
they were flying over the outskirts of Dar Es Salaam. As the light failed, they could only
make out dim silhouettes of a shantytown with rusting corrugated iron roofs and strings of
multi-coloured washing and then it was gone. The blackness of the windows was only
alleviated by the brightness of the first stars as they stared out, hoping for a glimpse of the
magical Mount Kilimanjaro. In fact their first glimpse, was the fresh white snow on the inside
of the crater called Kibo as the helicopter plummeted into it. The plunge made their stomachs
turn and then they could see the rocks and steaming lake as the crater was bathed in bright
white LED light. At the last moment before crashing into the base of the crater, the false floor
opened to let the machine access the landing pad on level two. The rotors slowed to a halt and
then the door was slid open to reveal a gigantic hanger bathed in an eerie yellow colour by
the sodium lights. As they stepped onto the landing apron, they noticed the faint stench of
rotting eggs, residue of the sulphurous fumes in the lake high above them. Although there
was no one to greet them apart from two golf buggies with drivers, the children noticed the
odd Japanese man dressed in grey, who casually manned the doors and the grand gallery that
ran around the upper echelons of the hanger. Each man had a minimi machine gun hung on a
strap around their neck and a set of katana combat blades strapped to their backs. Jack
remembered Wolf’s private briefing. He had been right, MM had been recruiting ninjas.
Timmo was loaded onto the first buggy and was immediately taken to the sick bay for an x-
ray and a plaster cast. He was accompanied by Techno, his new “friend”. Everyone else piled
into the second buggy including Twip Twop as their minder and then headed towards a metal
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blast door that opened automatically as they came within 2 metres of it. The ninja guards
watched them carefully, studying their faces for future recognition. The buggy quickly ran
down a long spiralling ramp towards level three and the accommodation block. No one spoke
in their group, the sight of the second immense cavern was as overwhelming as the first.
Then Kate expressed her shock as she stared beyond the lights to the darkness beyond. ‘There
is so much emptiness,’ she had her hands to her face, ‘I never thought I would see so much of
nothing!’
‘In fact you’re wrong Kit Kat.’ Rogers poked his glasses onto his face with his index finger.
‘Scientifically speaking, there are 60 billion neutrinos in each square centimetre around us.’
She was annoyed, it had been a tedious journey with the boffin. ‘If you can’t see it, then it
doesn’t exist.’
Marshall was more interested. ‘What’s a neutrino Roger?’
‘One of the twelve particles that make up our universe, although there may be more of
course.’ The children stared at the vastness and contemplated the trillions of invisible
particles around them.
Twip Twop pointed a flailing white hand as they passed a brightly lit area. ‘On the left is
sector one for the technical boffins. That’s where we let the brains play at being god,
designing all manner of clever things but not as clever as hands that can strangle.’ The
children shuddered with fear, he was truly mad. ‘On the right is sector four for relaxation, a
place I hate. Idiots can go there and play on idiotic games in the vast arcade. Stupid children
who should be fighting each other rather than fighting computer images.’ Jack shook his head
at Roger to keep him quiet. ‘Leaving sector number two at the far end of the cavern. That is
where we are heading. It has the engineering block and also alongside is your comfy
accommodation, a mini palace for esteemed visitors like yourselves. The buggy pulled up
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outside a partition wall constructed from grey plasterboard. The wall was unpainted but the
door set within it was blue. ‘Blue sector, blue doors for your quarters. Do you get it?’ They
nodded their assent to the albino who was pushing the door open to lead the way in. ‘These
five beds are yours, make yourself comfortable.’ Twip Twop turned on his heel and retraced
his steps. They stood in amazement.
‘There’s no flippin roof!’ Jack was staring at the rocks 100 metres above his head. The lights
above the five beds were suspended on a metal girder, 3 metres above them. The unpainted
girder stretched beyond their sight but must have had uprights somewhere. Roger tried the
light switch on the wall and the fluorescent tubes went dark. He flicked them back on to help
them explore.
‘Great we have a hair dryer’ exclaimed Kit Kat who had pushed open an adjoining door and
found the bathroom. The three boys rolled their eyes.
‘It’s horrible isn’t it. Worse than my care home in Peckham.’ Marshall threw himself onto a
bed and heel flicked his lace less trainers onto the floor with a clatter.
Jack sat on the adjacent bed. ‘Don’t worry mate, it’s been a long emotional day. You just need
some food and sleep to make things look brighter.’
Marshall’s pinched face turned to Jack. ‘It’s easy for you to say that, you never lost your
mum and brother forever, your loss is only temporary “init”.’ His eyes brimmed with tears.
‘I know Marshall’ Jack clasped him firmly on his shoulder, ‘I’m truly sorry for your loss, but
now you have us to look after you. You know, like the four Musketeers, “One for all and all
for one!”’
‘So why are they called Musketeers when they always fight with swords and not muskets?’ It
was Timmo, banging his wheelchair through the outer door by using his new plaster cast as a
battering ram. They all gathered around him to fuss. Timmo reassured them he was okay. ‘It’s
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great now, really I have no pain guys. I’ve got some crutches too and the doctor said I must
use them a bit each day to help the healing process.’
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
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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, Madame 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.’
Madame 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
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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
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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 Madame 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 languagesraised 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
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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 helps 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.
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‘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.’
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‘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.
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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 laybehind 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.
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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 Madame 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?’
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‘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.
‘Don’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.
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* * *
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 fe