Maestro and Other Stories

by Phillip Mann

Genres: Science Fiction; Alien Contact; Dystopian; Genetic Engineering

Synopsis

Six stories from Phillip Mann, taken from his long and varied career. Includes stories from the Out of Time Cafe, a very unusual refuge from reality. It attracts people afflicted with a deep malaise. It offers what seems from the outside to be sanctuary, but it can be subversive too, for on entering the cafe, one gives up a certain amount of independence, and before one knows it one is trapped. There is no escape... save one: the lift which services the cellars descends... but no one who has used the lift has ever returned. On a brighter note, the cafe has a will of its own, and travels different dimensions with ease and every journey is a new beginning. Also featured are The Gospel According to Mickey Mouse, originally produced as a hugely successful radio play; Maestro; Lux in Tenebris, a cautionary tale about a medieval stonemason's encounter with an anachronism and the effect it has on his culture; and An Old Fashioned Story, wherein Jody is having problems with his Sythno companion Elizabeth, who head butted him without warning. He is attempting to repair her. Then Elizabeth and her Sythno Joseph from next door drop in...

Release date: May 29, 2014

Publisher: Gateway

Print pages: 240

Sample

Not having the tool kit to hand and being of an impatient nature, Jody improvised by using the blunt end of a nail file to prize up the large toe nail on Elizabeth’s left foot. Revealed was the small copper screw which controlled the energy circuit. Two turns with the nail file and the screw lifted. Immediately Elizabeth’s brown, tanned body lost its appearance of robust health.

She slumped. Breasts became pouches. Skin became rubbery. The eyes lost their sparkle and turned upwards, becoming like boiled egg whites. With an audible hiss the abdomen became concave and the firm thigh muscles turned to lard.

Jody looked at his handiwork with some alarm. He had never before gone so far as to deactivate Elizabeth’s energy circuit. The transformation from nubile young woman to this flaccid ‘thing’ of foam and plastic was almost too much for him. For a moment he thought seriously of calling in a specialist, but then he rallied. “No,” he reasoned, “the manual says that repairs and modifications can be made by the careful amateur - and that’s me.”

He looked at the body lying on the kitchen table and noticed that since the stomach had sunk, a fine hairline seam had become evident running from under the jaw right down to the crotch. He also noticed a foetid smell: a difficult smell to define, something of babies and something of machine oil. There was also a slight see page coming from nose and vagina and Jody wondered if he should have read more carefully the section in the manual entitled ‘Pre-closedown procedures. Please Read Me.’ He crossed to the sink and collected a full roll of kitchen tissues which he began to tuck round the body.

And at that moment the door bell rang. This was followed quickly by the opening of the front door and a voice calling, “Yoo hoo. It’s only me.” Jody recognized the voice of Hildergarde, the girl who lived next door and who had been his friend and playmate since childhood.

“I’m back here,” called Jody. “In the kitchen. I’m trying to mend Elizabeth.” He heard the crisp tap tap of Hildergarde’s shoes and guessed that she had come to show him the new outfit she had bought during her visit to the city.

He was right. Hildergarde arrived and paused in the doorway, one hand up under her hair at the back of her head creating a French bouffant effect, and the other on her hips, elbow thrust forwards. The dress was Empire style with high bodice and ankle-length hem. It was made of yellow and green silk with blue lace round the neck and arms. On her feet were high-heeled boots with gold trim. “Est ce que tu aimes mon dress?” asked Hildergarde, with an affected accent.

“Yes, yes, very nice,” said Jody, glancing briefly. “Now come and help me with this. You can hold the manual while I do the manipulating.”

Hildergarde pulled a face at his obvious lack of interest and dropped her pose. She entered the kitchen. “What wrong with her?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” said Jody patiently. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“Well, did she suddenly just stop moving and start to smoulder or something? My Joseph did that once. We’d forgotten to keep him topped up. He just stood there and started to fume. Then dad came in and carried him out to the garage and filled his sack and whatnots with oil and that syntho-extract you can get at the chemists, and he was right as rain.”

“Hmm,” said Jody, his forehead wrinkling. “I wish it were that simple, but I check her every week and there’s never been a problem. Besides, she’s got a daily vomit and douche cycle installed and if there were a fluid balance problem I’d know about it soon enough. She’s very clean.”

“So what happened then?”

“It was this morning, about half pest ten. I was feeling a bit… you know. And no one was home. So then suddenly Elizabeth stops and lifts up her head, and then she butted me right here.” Jody pointed to his forehead. There was a bump, covered by his blond fringe. Hildergarde reached out and touched the bump gently with the tips of her fingers. “That’s going to be sore,” she said. “The skin’s all cracked.”

“It is sore,” said Jody. “Well, I switched her off for a while, for about an hour… I thought I’d let her cool down. And when I switched her back on she was just like normal, full of fun. But then later on we were out by the bathing pool, talking, and she suddenly threw her glass into the pool and then tried to throw me in too. I hit the safety switch and closed her down. And then I thought I’d try and mend her myself.”

“So what do you think’s wrong with her?”

“Just roguing a bit. I think. I’ve decided to strip her down, give her a tune-up and change her personality card. That ought to do the trick. And if it doesn’t -”

“Harry knows a lot about Synthos,” interrupted Hildergarde. “Why not call him in? Remember he made those Siamese twins one time and that -”

Harry was the boy who lived two doors down the road. He could do everything well and he and Jody had been natural enemies from the day they learned to race their trikes.

“If I want Harry’s help,” said Jody crisply, “I’ll ask for it. For the moment I want to do this myself. More interesting that way. All right?” Hildergarde nodded. “So, you hold the manual where I can see it and I’ll open her up.”

Hildergarde took the manual and stood at the end of the table near the prone Elizabeth’s head. She held the pages open away from her.

Jody bent to his work. “Now, let’s see. It says here, ‘Release the top seal by gentle pressure on the larynx and then insert finger and slide downwards to open pectoral, stomach and bowel areas.’ Right. Here goes.” He pressed gently on Elizabeth’s larynx and the mouth opened, followed by the entire throat flap. He slipped his finger inside the flap and slid it downwards and the skin opened easily. It slit laterally too as the diaphragm flopped back. The inside of the skin was dark like fish skin and oily. Revealed were a complicated array of plastic wheels and belts as well as micro-circuitry, multicoloured wiring and inflatable pockets. The skeletal structure was of shiny stainless steel with ball joints and leaf-spring inserts and feather-sensor couplings.

“Fan-tastic,” said Jody. “Hell, it makes you wonder what we’re like inside, doesn’t it?”

Hildergarde’s attention was on the pelvis. Here there was a modular arrangement of compressors, flexible bands and micro switches. All were mounted on a stainless steel girdle. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to a small pocket of stretched fabric. Jody consulted the chart in the manual.

“That’s the vaginal sack.”

“My Joseph’s got one of those too. I saw it when dad was servicing him one day. Hey, what model is this?”

Jody consulted the front pages of the manual. “Model number and inspection warranty will be found on the skull close to the right ear under the wig flap,” he read.

Hildergarde took hold of Elizabeth’s hair, which was now lifeless and lank like seaweed, and peeled it back from the skull. It came away easily, like a teapot cosy, to reveal neatly stencilled details.

“Syntho Model: Ovida, Mark 2.4. Fem. Spec. 37. Card 4. Elizabeth the Entertainer. Available in coral, tan and ebony. Swim protected. Throw and jump fortified. Parts compatible with Ovida 1.5 - 2.4. (All sexes and all ages). Note: this model has both vacuum and pneumatic functions which are self-cleansing. However it is recommended that a unit survey (see manual page 69) be conducted each week, especially after constant or heavy usage. Inspected and certified by Taurus and Virgo Electronics Inc.”

“My Joseph’s an Ovida 2.4 too,” said Hildergarde. “Hey, let me look.” She came round the table and studied Elizabeth’s pelvic arrangements in detail. She pointed to a series of bright bevelled studs mounted on a flexible plastic plate and connected to a small hydraulic piston. “You see those?” she said. “That’s where the penis attachment fits. Isn’t that clever?”

Jody looked at Hildergarde. “Penis attachment?” he said. “You mean they just clip on? I mean I never thought…”

Hildergarde looked at him scornfully, “Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that but still pretty simple all the same. I’ve got two of them actually and when I…” Then suddenly she blushed. “They’re quite different… well, I mean, they’re the same but different… Similar. What about Elizabeth?”

“Never thought much about it,” said Jody. “I just accepted the way she is.”

“Really?’ said Hildergarde.

Jody could not tell whether she believed him or not. ‘Yes, really! I didn’t even know the models were unisex. I mean, my Elizabeth doesn’t look anything like your Joseph.”

“True. They’re not even like brother and sister, are they?”

“There must be something on their card that alters the physiognomy as well.”

“Must be. Come on, let’s find the card cache.’ Hildergarde was filled with enthusiasm. “This is fun!”

Jody grunted and consulted the manual, which he now had to prop up on the side of the table since Hildergarde wanted to be actively involved in the investigation. “Now, let’s see. Personality Card. Destruction of… Duplication… Mail-ordering… Here we are. Replacement… page 15.” He thumbed through the pages. “It says, ‘The personality card cache is located above the stomach pouch and to the right of the sternum auxiliary power pack. Note that all directions are from the Syntho’s POV. The rib-hinge release screw is beneath the left clavicle. Care must be taken to release the six shock-adjusters and isolate the cache from the power pack before removing it from the twin flanges of Synaptic Bridge 3. See. Illus. 88.’”

“Sounds simple,” said Hildergarde. “Remember how we used to play doctors and nurses? This is a lot better.”

The sternum and ribs were a single flexible unit. Jody found the rib-hinge release screw and turned it once. Immediately a servo-extension arm about the size of a pencil straightened and pushed, whereupon the entire rib case and sternum pivoted upwards. The cache could now be clearly seen. It was no bigger than a matchbox and made of a dull black plastic. It was tucked between two iridescent plastic extensions which resembled the spread wings of a butterfly. Together these wings constituted Synaptic Bridge 3. Bedded within them were thousands of micro paths which joined the cache to the furthest extensions of the body. “Wow,” breathed Hildergarde. “That’s beautiful. You’d better be careful.”

At this point Jody decided that it would be a good idea to get the special Ovida Syntho tool kit from his bedroom. “Don’t you touch anything while I’m gone,” he said to Hildergarde. For her part she put her tongue out at him and said, “Bring me a lemonade fizz when you come back? I’m a thirsty girl.”

When he returned with his tool box and the lemonade, Jody found Hildergarde with her arm deep in Elizabeth and her hair tangled in some of the white plastic cogwheels. He set his tool box down carefully beside the prone Elizabeth’s head and placed the glass on top of it. Then he tried to release some of Hildergarde’s hair by rotating the white plastic cogs with his thumb. He managed to pull most of the hair free. But in turning the cogs a few strands of the hair managed to snake down deeper into the pulleys and drums of the spine. “I told you not to touch,” he said as Hildergarde straightened up. “Now look what’s happened.”

“Sorry. But I discovered how they do the breasts,” she replied. “It’s very ingenious. I got excited and that was when my hair tumbled loose. Do you want to see?”

“What?”

“How they do the breasts.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Oh. All right.”

Hildergarde quickly tied back her hair in a pony tail using a spare small pulley strap from the tool kit. Then she reached inside Elizabeth again, feeling down the right side of the body to the place where the hips swelled. “It’s down here. There’s a funny pump thing. Watch.” She pumped her hand vigorously for a few moments and Elizabeth’s right breast began to swell and the nipple stood up. “There’s another pump on the other side for the other breast. Now I’ll release it.” There was a soft bubbling sound and the breast and nipple subsided. “Look. Can you see? There’s a tuck in it so that part of the breast can fold inside. That’s what you do if you want a male like my Joseph. You close the seal like this and, voila, no breast.”

“What about the nipple? You don’t see men with nipples like that.”

“It un-clips. When it’s deflated like now there’s no pressure to hold the nipple on and it just un-clips. There. See.” She took the nipple between finger and thumb and squeezed and twisted. The nipple came free.

“Easy.”

‘Let me look at that,” said Jody, genuinely interested for the first time, and he reached across. As he did so he bumped the glass of lemonade fizz which tipped and fell, emptying part of its contents into his tool kit and the remainder into the open cadaver of Elizabeth. “Now look what you’ve made me do,” he said. “I wish I’d never opened her up.”

Hildergarde placed the nipple in his hand. “No harm done,” she said. “Here, you look at this while I mop up the lemonade. Where’s your squeegee?”

Five minutes later the mess was cleared and Jody could return to working on the card cache. Carefully he removed the shock adjusters and set them neatly in a tea cup brought from the cupboard. Then he started to disconnect the leads of the auxiliary power pack. They were stiff and he had to use more force than he wanted. Two leads came away cleanly but the third would not budge. In attempting to limber it free Jody accidentally closed a circuit in the power pack and for a few seconds power was fed to the spread body. Wheels turned, the legs lifted, the mouth bit, juices were pumped, the fingers beat on the table like castanets and the spine arched. Then a safety breaker cut in and the body slumped once more. But the damage was done. One of the spinal cogs had sprung loose under pressure and flipped right out of the body and rolled across the floor. A thick white rubber pulley-band had jumped its tracks in the pelvic girdle and disappeared down the right leg. Two small switches had smouldered briefly and burnt the soft foam rubber which made the hips swell. A spray of warm lubricant had spurted from the lower abdomen and left a spotty trail across Hildergarde’s hand, arm and dress. She screamed and jumped back and then ran out of the kitchen and away. The front door slammed behind her. There may have been other damage done to Elizabeth but Jody could not tell.

But at least the third lead from the auxiliary power pack was disengaged and all Jody now had to do was to separate the card cache from Synaptic Bridge 3. This was accomplished without any trouble.

Jody unscrewed the top from the card cache and looked inside. He saw a square of white plastic lodged between two plates of black plastic. The white plastic showed a tab above the plates and was obviously the personality card. Using his long-nosed pliers Jody gripped the plastic card and extracted it slowly. It came free with a click. Written on the card was the simple message ‘Ovida Fem. Spec. Card 4.’ He set this to one side.

Located in the special tool kit was a small file box which contained three alternative personality cards. These were supplied gratis with all Ovida Synthos by way of advertising. For the dedicated collector, thousands of other specialized types were available ranging from robust 19th century working girls complete with wooden clogs to houri dancers of old Persia. These were also available in many personality shades from sunny and gentle to downright sado-masochistic. But such were very expensive and the cards were frequently custom made to suit the particular requirements of the purchaser.

All Jody had at his disposal were four standard occupational types, all of which were basically useful and kind. Elizabeth the Entertainer had been his most complex card. Jody now studied the others.

Card 1. Norma the Nurse. Brisk and competent but with a tender manner. This card can be augmented to allow Norma to care for babies or the terminally ill. Note: Norma is not a doctor. For full medical functions consult Proctor the Doctor and Phyllis the Physician. Ovida International take no responsibility… etc.

Card 2. Myra the Muse. Myra is an advanced word processor and the ideal help-mate for the aspirant writer. She is introverted in manner but with a strong underlying and inquisitive sensuality. Apart from a compendious knowledge of literature and opera, Myra also possesses optional verse functions and a rhyme memory of over 100,000 words. Available in all major languages and some dialects. Ovida International take no responsibility… etc.

Card 3. Carol the Cleaner/Cook. Thoughtful and confidential. The perfect companion for the lonely housewife who dreads the hours of boredom between breakfast and dinner. Carol has news and scandal circuits as well as an ability to cook over 200 meals. Note: Carol can be augmented with an anti-alcohol programme. Conversion to Andy the Handyman is swift and simple. Extension parts extra. Ovida International take no responsibility… etc.

This was what was available and Jody didn’t feel drawn to any of them. He was already missing the fun which Elizabeth the Entertainer had brought into his life. He read through the cards once again and finally selected Myra the Muse. Holding the card with his tweezers he slipped it into place in the cache.

The return journey of repair went smoothly. First the auxiliary power leads made their connections firmly. The shock adjusters fitted into place easily and the whole unit snuggled securely between the twin wings of the synaptic centre.

As Jody was lowering the rib cage and locking it into place, Hildergarde returned. She had changed into a pair of bulky white overalls which had masses of pockets. With her was her male Syntho companion, Joseph the Joiner. He was a serious faced young man with red hair and freckles. His character was, as Hildergarde had often told Jody, sensible and studious with strong compassion circuits. He also had broad shoulders, narrow hips and the legs of a tennis player. Plus extras.

“How are you getting on?” asked Hildergarde.

“Oh, OK. Nearly finished.”

“Hear you had some problems,” said Joseph.

“Uh, uh,” replied Jody without looking up, concentrating on his work. He had found the spinal cog that had jumped loose and by pushing and easing managed to limber it back into place. He next reached down inside the right leg and tried to find the band that had come loose. No luck.

“Ah well,” he said, “this model has self-repair circuits.”

“Sure do,” said Joseph, amiably, and he cracked his knuckles.

“Let’s hope they work.”

“What card did you use for her?” asked Hildergarde. “I brought some of mine over in case you wanted to explore.” She pronounced this word with all kinds of innuendo and grinned wickedly. “I brought Bruce the Builder and Rudolph the Wrestler just in case. Thought they might be fun.”

“Oh thanks,” said Jody, “but I’ve already put Myra’s card in.”

“Myra the Muse? Bor-ing!” said Hildergarde, pulling a face. “I’ve seen dad use her. Talk, talk, talk.”

“No. Myra the Muse is a nice lady,” said Joseph.

Both Hildergarde and Jody stared at him. It was rare for a Syntho to offer an unsolicited opinion, let alone a dissenting one.

“Well, I need to study a bit,” said Jody, weakly, and he returned to his work, folding over the flaps of skin. The body came together neatly. As the seams met they exuded an oil. This was a kind of protective insulation, for once the skin became charged the flaps would instantly bond.

Jody replaced the energy fuse in the big toe of the left foot and screwed it into place and closed the toenail with a click. Immediately, and much to Jody’s relief, the body began to firm and the seams disappeared. The breasts slowly shaped. Jody noticed that Myra’s breasts were slightly smaller than Elizabeth’s. He also noticed that he had neglected to replace the nipple. The jaw trembled. Fluid ran briefly from the nose and then Myra sniffed. The muscles in her arms and thighs came up to tone and flexed. It seemed to Jody that Myra’s hips were wider than Elizabeth’s and that her legs were slightly shorter and thicker. Not unattractive, he noted.

Fully formed, brown skinned and vibrant, the body held its position in suspended animation. Jody reached up under the nape of the neck and found a micro switch. He double clicked.

Immediately the body drew in breath. Myra’s eyes turned in their orbits and then settled and focused. The mouth opened and closed a few times. There was a choking sound from the throat and then a pleasant contralto voice said, “Myra sick. Please come quick.”

She sat up. Her head travelled through one hundred and eighty degrees, surveying the kitchen and those who were looking at her. She did not blink. “My name is Myra. Shall I sing you a song? Cry sorrow. Sorrow. My hair is gone.”

Jody picked up the wig and handed it to Myra. She took it carefully and set it on her head and adjusted it. A greater assurance came into her figure. She edged forwards on the table until her toes could touch the floor and then, using her hands, she eased herself upright and stood. “I am Myra.” She looked round and her green eyes settled on Jody. “Ah, Jody. I need clothes. Please dress me. Please dress me, Jody. We have so much work to do. ‘Ars longa. vita brevis.’ ‘The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne.’ Chaucer after Seneca after Hippocrates. Please give me your hand, Jody. Myra the Muse is sick.” Myra reached out her hand.

Jody reached out to meet her. But before they could join, before Myra could take one step, her right leg gave way and she crashed down onto her knees. “Poor Myra’s a cold.” Then she writhed onto her back and began to scratch at her eyes.

Both Jody and Hildergarde started forwards but both were too slow. They felt themselves gripped from behind by strong fingers and hauled back. Joseph stepped swiftly between them. He came close to Myra and knelt down. He slipped his arms under her quivering body and lifted her up and then turned and faced Jody. “You should have consulted a specialist.” he said. “You’re just a boy.”

Then he turned and, carrying the still shaking Myra in his arms, exited from the kitchen. As he departed they heard the contralto of Myra murmuring, “Howl. Howl. Howl.”

Jody rubbed h. . .