Doctor Who_ Trading Futures - Lance Parkin [51]
‘But the real whizzkids are the computer gamers. And the computer gamers love to play a game that isn’t a game, they love to fight a real war where there’s no risk of dying.’
Baskerville nodded. ‘It took my ten years to realise that, but you’ve got it straight away. You really are good at your job.’
‘I’d buy shares in your company,’ Anji admitted. ‘Robots fighting robots… that’s almost ethical, isn’t it? ‘
‘Ah.’ Baskerville hesitated. ‘Well, my robots are cheap, but not that cheap. In the event, only the EZ and the Americans can afford them in anything like the numbers where they’re an effective substitute for a human soldier. So… more often than not, it’s robots versus humans. Another thing I didn’t anticipate… the teletroopers don’t like their opponents to be robots. They relish the idea of going after humans. They have to be drafted in to fight other robots, but to go up against people… they’d pay for that privilege. Once the powers that be realised that… well, market forces. So the robots started paying for themselves.’
Anji felt ill. ‘People paid to kill other people?’
‘Only to kill bad people,’ Baskerville said sarcastically. ‘It was how the war against terrorism was won. The computer told you who was a terrorist and who wasn’t, with eighty percent accuracy, anyway, and the teletroopers went in and blasted them away, paying good money, all from the comfort of their living rooms. And if you weren’t fighting, you were watching – the ultimate reality TV show, for the highest stakes imaginable.’
Baskerville sat back. ‘And, with my patents on the software and hardware, with my licensing agreements, with the tie‐in books and games and toys and videodiscs… well, I became the richest man on Earth. Well… I think so. As I don’t have an electronic presence, it’s all black accountancy, but…’
‘So… who do they fight now?’
Baskerville smiled thinly. ‘You see my problem? How to maintain my position as market leader?’
‘You’re engineering the war between Europe and America?’
Baskerville nodded.
‘Millions will die.’
‘Yes. Millions will die, and for everyone that does there will be two angry parents and two angry children and a dozen angry friends baying for revenge. And, for only a few dollars subscription, they can take that revenge. It’ll be the ultimate grudge match, and the TV rights alone will be worth trillions. But what then? It’s the problem for all fight promoters, all the makers of action films… what do you do after the ultimate battle, the fight to end all fights? How do you do that without killing the golden goose?’
‘You stop?’
‘Only if you’re one of the weak.’
Anji looked at him. He was smiling.
‘You have an answer to that question? Something involving this time machine of yours?’
Baskerville nodded. ‘Oh yes.’
* * *
Chapter Twelve
The Spy Who Shot Me
They had men, covering all the exits, with orders to shoot anything that came through.
They couldn’t land helicopters on the roof. There were three doors at ground level. The Doctor and Malady had gone in through the main entrance, one of the others was blocked by debris, the other hadn’t been opened since the tidal wave had hit. The Doctor and Malady were still in the building.
Cosgrove had a limited number of men available, but he had enough. He ordered all the doors covered by teletroops, got a squad of men to set up by the main entrance, and kept two helicopters in the air, circling the museum.
The Doctor and Malady were working together, now. Cosgrove still didn’t think the Doctor was CIA, though. But they must have common interests – and that common interest could only be to prevent his acquiring time travel.
Anyway, there was now a fourth party involved. A middle‐aged woman and a young boy, in purple uniforms which no one could identify, carrying laser handguns.
Time travellers from the future. They had to be. Penny Lik suggested they could be policemen from Baskerville’s time. She read a lot of science fiction, but Cosgrove thought she was probably right – the authorities of the future would be at least