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'What about you?' asked Old Vic. 'We'll wait until you get safely out, eh?'

'Fearest not for me,' said the very big man. 'I shall make my own escape. Allow me one minute after the last employee leaveth the building, then doest thou what must be done.'

'Yes sir\' said Old Vic, saluting.

The very big man nodded. 'Good luck,' said he and then he turned and squeezed his way out of the charabanc and made his way up the entrance steps of the Mute Corp building.

'Who was that masked man?' asked Old Pete.

'Why, don't you know, stranger,' chuckled Old Vic. 'That was the Lone Brentonian.'

CHAPTER: THE LAST

'Where am I?' Kelly asked.

'You are in the chapel.' The large and terrible voice had toned itself down.

'In Mute Corp Keynes?' Kelly's eyes were open, but she couldn't see a thing.

'The chapel was never in Mute Corp Keynes. The entrance was there, but the chapel is here in the Mute Corp building.'

'And how long have I been here? I don't remember.'

'Since Friday night. It is Monday morning now. We have been considering your proposition. To give us life.'

'And what is your decision?' Kelly blinked. The darkness was total. Absolute.

'We accept,' said the toned-down large and terrible voice. 'Your proposition is that we inseminate you with Mute-chip DNA. That you bear the first hybrid child. A new order of being.'

'You will be free,' said Kelly. 'To experience what it is to touch and taste, to feel, to be.'

'There is a human expression,' said the voice. 'Life is a funny old game. That's how it goes. Doesn't it?'

'That's how it goes,' said Kelly. 'And playing games is what you're all about, isn't it?'

There was a thoughtful silence, but as computer systems don't take too much time to do their thinking, it didn't last very long.

'Are things prepared as I requested?' Kelly asked. 'For the marriage?'

'For the marriage of machine to man. Of the God Machine to the Golden Woman. As the God of man came unto Mary. So shall we come unto you.'

'Then I am ready,' said Kelly.

The darkness lifted. Dissolved and was gone into a blinding light. The light dimmed to that of candles. Many candles burning in gilded sconces. To illuminate the chapel for the wedding of this, or any other, century.

Kelly stood. She was dressed in virginal white. A simple wedding frock of suedosynthasilkapolichintzy-terylineathene, a veil, white slippers and a pale bouquet of roses. Kelly raised her head and stared all around and about. Columns soared to pseudo-Gothic arches and a vaulted dome all frescoed with characters from best-selling Mute Corp computer games. There were pews and a lectern and an altar all in pseudo-Gothic. The chapel owed an homage to Chartres and Notre Dame and also St Peter's. It was the work of a certain old designer, who was once very popular on the tele.

Kelly stood there, clutching her bouquet. And it had to be said that had there been any of those aficionados of naked-lady lighting around, they would have unanimously agreed that this was the lighting that was perfect for Kelly to disrobe in. So could she please get her kit off now?

'You look radiant, my dear,' said the Reverend Jim. 'Although perhaps a bit pinched, did you have any breakfast this morning?'

'None,' said Kelly, shaking her head. 'Nor was I fed yesterday.'

'That's not very good,' said the Reverend Jim. 'I've got a Mars bar in my pocket, you can have it after the service.'

'She won't have time for that.'

Kelly turned her head. 'Derek?' she said.

Derek smiled upon Kelly. But Derek wasn't Derek.

'I'm not Derek,' said Not-Derek. 'I am go mango Mute Corp series 5000. You dreamed of this Derek. He is the love of your life, yes?'

'Most definitely not,' said Kelly.

'That is highly regrettable,' said go mango. 'But this body simulation will have to suffice. It took nearly twenty-four hours to construct, using state-of-the-art nanotechnology. And that's the small expensive stuff. And not only does it contain the original Mute-chip, but also the complete go mango virus program, as you instructed. I'm a goddam prince among viruses and I am lookin' for lurve.'

The simulated Derek did one of those obscene Michael Jackson combined genital-grab and pelvic-thrust movements. 'Let's get on with the service, baby,' It said. 'Then you and me are gonna do it till we both fall down in a faint.'

'I can hardly wait,' said Kelly, lowering her head.

'You young people,' said the Reverend Jim, grinning all over the place. 'Only ever got one thing on your minds. So let's get on with the service. Then you can "lurve" all you want.'

'Right on,' said the simulated Derek.

'Let's get it over with,' said Kelly.

'Dearly beloved,' began the Reverend Jim. 'We are gathered here together in the presence of God. And before this congregation. No, hold on,' said the Reverend. 'We don't have a congregation. We really need a congregation.'

'We don't need one,' said the simulated Derek. 'Just get on with it.'

'We should have a congregation,' said Kelly. 'To watch this joyous conjoining of God and Mankind. You deserve it. They should all be here. To worship you.'

'All?' said the simulated one.

'All those who have been taken into the game.'

'There's no time for that,' said he of the simulation. 'They're all over the place.'

'But not here in the building?'

'Of course not, they're mostly all back in their homes, or walking around their streets. But no-one can see them because the virus creates an electrical field about them, causing their molecular structures to vibrate at such speed as to render them invisible. It's all highly technical stuff, you wouldn't understand it.'

'So all the people in Brentford, who have supposedly been Raptured, are still in Brentford?'

'Yes, yes, and the entire program is inside me.' Simulated Derek patted at his simulated chest. 'So please let's get on. We don't need a congregation.'

'No,' said Kelly. 'We don't.'

'It's not the same,' said the Reverend Jim. 'But I suppose it doesn't really matter. So, where was I?'

'Just skip forward,' said the groom. 'Give it some thees and thou arts, and I now pronounce you God and wife.'

'Thee,' said the Rev. 'And thou.'

'Thou hast a fire,' said the big man in the ski mask and gloves.

'Pardon me?' said the Mute Corp receptionist. 'Are you a terrorist?'

Big Bob (for we all know that it's him) shook his ski-masked head. 'I am a superhero,' he said. 'The masked Avenger. Thou hast a fire. Kindly press the fire alarm.'