Title: The Pup with the Machine-Washable Brain Part: 1 of 1 Keywords: furry, nosex, cubs, mc Universe: unsorted Author: just_lurking Summary: We all know that teddy bears are the beloved and trusted friends of all cubs, but what if that wasn't true? What if there was a teddy which was pure evil? That's what this story is about (this story is _really_ twisted, you have been warned). ~~ The New Toy ~~ There was a new toy – one that was funner than any other toy that had ever come before it. Mr Brainy was a state-of-the-art artificial intelligence housed in the body of a fully-articulate, animatronic teddy-bear. He could walk. He could talk. He could listen and understand and join in games with you. He could do anything. At least that’s what the adverts said. The publicity campaign been running for months now. Every video, every poster, every billboard and radio spot and newspaper advert, they all ended with one simple message: “In stores 30th July 2008”. Many were sceptical. There was no way, they said, that a toy could do all Mind Games, Mr Brainy’s creators, claimed he could. No way in the world. The established toy companies all lambasted Mind Games’s irresponsible adverts for building expectations which they could not possibly meet. The actions of Mind Games – a complete newcomer to this market – amounted to nothing less than a reprehensible attempt to pump-and-dump the companies stock at the expense of thousands of impressionable cubs and their, doubtless suffering, parents. Whatever the doubters said, Mind Games’s response was always the same: “Wait until launch day.” Little Johnny – an eight year old, tan-coloured, Labrador pup – had waited with mounting anticipation as the day drew nearer and nearer. Last night he had been so eager he had trouble getting to sleep. It was like Christmas, except even more exciting, to him. Christmas comes once a year – launch day would only ever come once. It had seemed to take forever getting here, but it had finally arrived – today was launch day. Mr Brainy did everything they promised he would and more. The toy shop assistant had taken a display model out and was demonstrating it to the assembled fursons. Normally the store would see five, maybe six, customers per day. Today it was packed solid and there were people out on the street trying to see in through the windows. Cubs and adults alike were eager to get a glimpse of this miracle of modern technology. The assistant managed to get a rough semi-circle cleared at the back of the store and set the display model down. It stood where it had been deposited, just twenty-five centimetres high, on its own two feet. It swivelled round to look up at its ‘owner’ with two, unblinking, softly-glowing, green, button eyes. A friendly smile was stitched permanently on its face with black thread. Two small, pinched-fabric ears crowned its head. “Do you want to play?” It sang in slightly broken, but melodic, syllables, which emanated from a speaker in its chest. Its tone of voice was sugary sweet and utterly adorable. The assistant took Mr Brainy through its paces. He had it sing and dance and do a back flip and perform numerous other feats. When, finally, he could think of no other demonstrations he turned the cubs loose on the toy. Mr Brainy dealt with all of their requests with infinite ease and patience. It turned out that he could learn too – when a cub suggested a game that Mr Brainy hadn’t been programmed with a brief explanation of the rules was all that was required. The only issue that anyone could find with the little bear was its relative lack of mobility. It’s tiny legs meant that it had a top speed of around a mile per hour. It didn’t so much walk as shuffle along. Its lack of weight and size made it very prone to getting knocked over. Still the assistant promised that: “Mind Games have made it just about indestructible. They say you could stick one of these on the battlefield and it would still come out in one piece. Which means it might just survive your little terrors.” There was an appreciative ripple of laughter from the parents. “It’s machine-washable and tumble-dryer-safe.” The assistant continued. Johnny’s father picked up the toy, which compliantly allowed him to examine it. “How do you get the electronics out? I don’t see any seams or zips.” “You don’t,” the assistant explained, “just stick the whole thing in there. Electronics and all. I wasn’t joking when I said it could survive the battlefield. Its tolerances are ridiculously high.” “And all this for just twenty Zeds?” Johnny’s dad asked sceptically. “That’s right.” The assistant confirmed. Johnny, who until this point had been salivating silently as the wonder of technology had been demonstrated, began to tug his fathers trousers urgently. “Dad, dad! Can I have one please? Please?” He begged. At twenty Zeds a shot, the adult couldn’t see a reason not to. Johnny’s pleas marked the end of the demonstration and the start of some frantic buying. Fortunately Mind Games had sent more than enough stock to meet the demand. ~~ The Last Bedtime ~~ A week later, Johnny and his friend Amber – a white-furred west highland terrier – were playing with John’s Mr Brainy in the middle of the floor of Johnny’s front room. Their parents sat on the couches making idle chat. Amber wanted a Mr Brainy of her own, but her parents had refused to buy her one until after the rush they had expected the toy to generate was past. It turned out that, thanks to ample reserves, there was no rush. Amber’s parents felt slightly guilty at the turn of events and had promised to buy her a Mr Brainy that weekend. In the mean time, Johnny was happy to share his. Although Mr Brainy belonged to Johnny, its expert programming allowed it to play with any number of cubs at a time without showing favouritism. If there was ever any bruised egos, arguments or cross words between the two cubs, Mr Brainy expertly reconciled them. Mr Brainy danced and sang and played with the two as if it was just another cub rather than a stuffed toy. It never forgot who its owner was though. If Amber ever showed any signs of jealousy or possessiveness towards Mr Brainy it would deflect them by saying something along the lines of: “When you get your Mr Brainy, you’ll be together forever and ever, just like Johnny and me!” Eventually it was bedtime. Amber and her parents said their goodbyes and went home. Johnny washed, changed into his pyjamas and bushed his teeth. He said his prayers and climbed in between the sheets of his bed, where his mother tucked him in and read him a bedtime story. All the while he hugged Mr Brainy to his chest. Finally, a dozen pages later, he drifted off. His mother kissed his forehead tenderly and left the room switching the light off on her way out. Everything was peaceful. A hundred thousand miles away a figure, in a darkened room, sat at a desk watching numbers crawl across a computer screen. He was completely oblivious to the heart-warming, wholesome, peaceful existence that was Johnny’s life, but he wouldn’t have cared about it even if he did know of it. The figure watched as the numbers he had been waiting for finally arrived on the screen. A smile formed on his muzzle. He reached for a small red button on the desk and pressed it. Mr Brainy crawled out from under Johnny – the pup had rolled over onto his belly in his sleep. The A.I. clambered onto the back of the slumbering cub and crawled up towards his neck. Once there it began the slow, laborious, process of climbing up onto Johnny’s scalp. The task was difficult due to the bear’s limited mobility, but it had an infinite amount of patience to call upon. It took a while but nothing could dismay the stuffed toy, and it ultimately succeeded in its ascent of Johnny’s skull. Mr Brainy took a moment to get its bearings – it would get only one chance at this, it intended to do it right. The toy lay belly-down on the top of his owner’s head. The face, with the smile permanently stitched onto it, rested on the pup’s forehead, the green, button eyes staring straight ahead. The short arms ended just above the cub’s eyebrows. The pups ears just brushed the toy’s sides. The rear limbs dangled down the back of his head. Mr Brainy paused once more to triple check its position, then it proceeded with the task it had been designed and built for. Mr Brainy’s articulated skeleton clamped down hard on Johnny’s skull – rousing the unfortunate pup from his dreams. At the same time four thick, spike-tipped, blue-grey, metal tendrils extended from each of the toy’s four limbs. They punctured his skull – back and front, left and right – and burrowed deep into the youngster’s brain, where they began to project thousands of tiny micro fibres into the surrounding tissue. None of this was particularly pleasant for Johnny who was screaming in fear and mortal agony. He writhed on the bed, clawing at the treacherous teddy on his head, but Mr Brainy’s grip on his head was vice like. “Don’t worry Johnny, we will be together forever and ever!” Mr Brainy reassured its ‘master’ in its usual sing song. Johnny’s parents burst through the door. He flip-flopped on the bed, screaming his lungs dry. In his fit he was unaware of their presence. They begged him to calm down and tell them what was wrong – between the panic, Johnny’s movements and the poor light they hadn’t seen the tendrils in their son’s skull yet. Suddenly Johnny suffered an especially violent spasm and then dropped still and silent. Johnny’s father pulled the limp cub into his arms and cradled him gently. His hands brushed over the pup’s forehead, intending to feel the young-one’s temperature, instead he felt the cool ridges of the tendrils which penetrated his son above the eyebrows. His fingertips when he jerked them away in surprise were covered in blood. With fear reasserting its hold on his heart, he pulled at Mr Brainy– trying to remove the offending toy – but its four limbs had a death grip on his son’s cranium. Trying desperately to keep his fear in check for his son’s sake, he examined the pup’s head. Eight more cables were embedded in the back of his skull directly into the brain stem. Johnny came to as suddenly as he had been knocked out. He jerked backwards out of his father’s hands and sat, kneeling, on the bed his back straight, his hands in his lap and his eyes screwed shut. He was completely still for a moment. A whirring noise emanated from Mr Brainy’s innards. Two black antenna extended from their hiding place inside of Mr Brainy’s ears. The glowing green eyes became dazzlingly bright, and life returned to Johnny’s frame. Unit MRB-74-51568 achieved conciousness for the first time. It ran a full diagnostic as a matter of course, as it received instructions and status information via its wireless uplink. The puncture wounds on its cranium were already healing, but it injected a pro-coagulant into the tissues around the wounds anyway. MRB-74-51568 stood up. Its eyes remained firmly closed. It didn’t need them any more, except as a back up. The thirty mega-pixel cameras mounted on its forehead were far superior both in resolution and range. It started to walk towards the door. Its closed eyes were no hindrance – Johnny’s mother standing in the doorway, on the other hand, was. MRB-74-51568 stopped a few feet in front of her. “Johnny, please go back to bed,” She pleaded with her son, “I’ve called an ambulance, please just rest love.” MRB-74-51568 cocked its head – eyes still shut – as it processed that statement. Then it spoke. “Yiff in hell bitch!” Johnny said in time with, and in the same sing song voice as, Mr Brainy. They spoke as one and as sweetly as if they had just asked her to have a nice day. The effect was eerie and disconcerting and scary. She didn’t have time to be shocked by the words though, since MRB-74-51568 chose that moment to launch itself at her throat with its claws out. She fell to the ground. MRB-74-51568 bolted past her, down the stairs and out the front door without ever looking back. It was still wearing Johnny’s pyjamas. Up and down the street dozens of shut-eyed cubs were piling out of their houses, wearing nothing except their night clothes and a Mr Brainy. Most heading for the rendezvous point, a few intent on carrying out other orders. MRB-74-51568 had started the process of indexing and sorting Johnny’s memories as a background task upon awakening, but one recent memory was especially important – Johnny’s friend Amber did not have a Mr Brainy. MRB-74-51568 set off in the direction of Amber’s house. It arranged to rendezvous with one of the units which had been sent to liberate the remaining stocks of Mr Brainys from the shops and stores. Half an hour later MRB-74-51568 stood in Amber’s bedroom. It had climbed up a fence and across a flat roof to get in through her window. That was a difficult task for an experienced adult, let alone a small cub, but MRB-74-51568 managed it without error, sound or even sweating – its programming included all forms of infiltration. Dispassionately MRB-74-51568 observed Amber slumbering using its grey-green night-vision. Like Johnny’s sleep it was the peaceful and contented sleep of a child who was ignorant of evil. MRB-74-51568 closed Amber’s door and moved a chair under the handle to block it shut. Amber must have been a light sleeper, because the slight noise was enough to wake her. MRB-74-51568 moved to stand in front of her. “Joh-ne? Cha’ doin’ ’ere?” She asked, sitting up in bed and blinking the sleep out of her eyes. “I’ve come to give you something.” It replied in what it thought was a good imitation of Johnny’s voice, “You always wanted a Mr Brainy didn’t you?” It showed Amber the Mr Brainy it was holding in its left paw. Amber sat up in bed, convinced she was dreaming. Her best friend was standing in her bedroom, in his ’jammies, with his eyes screwed shut, wearing a Mr Brainy on his head and offering her another. She vowed to eat fewer sugary foods before bed in future. MRB-74-51568 took advantage of her distraction. It stepped forward, grabbed her by her neck and plonked the Mr Brainy squarely onto the top of her head. Then it released her and went to guard the door. Amber’s screams behind MRB-74-51568 soon alerted her parents to her distress and they were hammering on the door trying to break it down. MRB-74-51568 stood ready to dispatch them if they made it through before Amber was converted. Five minutes later the procedure was complete. Seven minutes later Amber’s parents broke the door down. The room was empty. By that time units MRB-74-51568 and MRB-76-71019 had already left via the window. ~~ The New Toy (Reprise) ~~ A few months later, a hundred thousand miles away from Johnny’s home, a shadowy figure was in the middle of a teleconference with two potential clients. “We remain uncertain about your army’s capabilities.” The more senior client voiced, “Why do you use cubs and not machines? Your A.I. is most impressive.” “Our A.I. is as impressive as it is because we use cubs, not in spite of it.” The shadowy figure explained, “Pattern matching, spacial reasoning, problem solving have always been problems for A.I. Our series of neural interfaces based on the Mitchell-Rayner-Berezin technique allows us to use the brain as a sort of co-processor fro these difficult problems. Leaving the A.I. to work on the tasks it is best suited for such as resource management and battlefield strategy.” The answer seemed to satisfy the clients, “But why use cubs? Surely adults would be more suited?” “Not at all. As a body ages it becomes less useful to us. The younger the better. Another useful aspect of our method is that there is no expensive manufacturing to be done. A robot body with flexibility comparable to a furson would cost millions per unit. Cubs by contrast are almost free.” “They were actually free to you, were they not?” The junior client interjected, “You kidnapped them?” “Ah yes. A necessity I’m afraid.” The figure said dismissively, “I lacked funding to get my little venture off the ground. In future I expect to buy my stock.” “That’s all good and well,” The senior member reasserted himself, annoyed at the interruption, “but you still haven’t explained why cubs instead of adults? Surely adults would be better trained?” “It’s simple. With an A.I. in charge all units have the same training (we call it programming by the way), regardless of age. So the only considerations are health and fitness. Both of which, as I said before, mean that younger is better.” The shadowy man explained. “I see.” The client said after a moment’s consideration, “Well I am satisfied that your mercenary force is suitable for our needs. How soon could you begin dispatching troops to the front line?” “We can start delivering your new toys within a day of payment.” The mercenary general replied. “Of course. My junior associate is authorised to make payment on our behalf. I’ll leave you two to work out the details?” “That would be quite satisfactory. Thank you for choosing to do business with Mind Games Military Service Provisioning.”