52 The Trigger

Chapter 52 The Trigger old RAZER 003, set that big oaf free, would you?' barked Nerys. The robot sped over to Alan, produced a tiny circular saw from its side panel and cut through the Mona Lisa's frame. It fell to the floor in two pieces. 003 then cut through the tape binding his arms and legs. Once free, Alan stretched his arms out to the sides and wiggled his thick fingers. But he thanked neither the robot nor Nerys. 'There's still something I don't understand,' said Rockwell. And that's 'Oh, trust me, there's a lot you don't understand, Tall Human,' said 67 gleefully, eyes still purple and swirling. ' Yes, well, fortunately, Rockwell, it doesn't matter

whether you understand or not,' said Nerys. 'All three of you have been an enormous help without even knowing it. As have your mother and that poor, ridiculous man, Mr Stone. I suppose all those years spent pretending to work for them weren't totally wasted, after all. 'I have a question,' said Peanut, quietly. 'Go on then, lovely. Ask away.' 'Why?' 'Why, what?' replied Nerys. 'Why all this? Why do you want to rid the world of its creativity? There must be a reason. I mean, why do you hate art so much?' Nerys smiled, shook her head, and walked over to the chair next to the control desk. 'You might find this hard to believe, young Peanut, she said as she sat down, 'but I was a very artistic child. Full disclosure: I didn't enjoy school, and school didn't enjoy me. But the one thing I was good at was art. In fact, the only time

that people would notice me was when I drew or painted. I was invisible until I picked up a pencil. My classmates only ever wanted to be friends with me for the duration of the art lesson though. After that, everything would go back to normal and I'd be on my own again. But at least I had the art room. I loved that place. It was somewhere I could retreat to whenever I felt lonely. The pictures that I made there were my friends, and they never stole my lunch money or laughed at me behind my back.' 'Well, in that case, this makes no sense at all,' said Little- Bit. 'If you love art, why are you trying to destroy it?' My parents never understood,' continued Nerys, ignoring the question. 'They didn't view art as a worthwhile subject to study at school, let alone something that a person could ever make a career out of. "A waste of time", they called it. 'What a load of rubbish,' said Peanut. 'That's what I thought at the time too,' said Nerys. 'And I hated them for saying it. Then they made me leave school at the age of fifteen and forced me to take a typing position at a local accountancy firm. "A proper job", they called it. 'Sounds pretty boring to me,' said Little-Bit. It was boring. So I carried on with my art regardless, continued Nerys. 'I would paint in my bedroom whenever I could and take myself off to art galleries and life-drawing classes at every opportunity. Then, when I turned eighteen,

I secretly applied to go to the Royal College of Art. It was a lifelong dream of mine. Unfortunately for me, competition was high and I was told that I wouldn't be offered a place.' 'Why not?' asked Rockwell. 'Were you rubbish?' I certainly was not!' shouted Nerys, with venom in her eyes. 'If you must know, they said my style was too naive and that I didn't have a solid enough grasp of the foundations. Pah! What nonsense! I think perhaps being a female applicant in the 1960s had much more to do with it. I bet there were loads of men—with less talent—who were offered places. 'So, what happened next?' asked Peanut. 'Well, I was furious, obviously,' she said. 'Furious with the art college for rejecting me, furious with my parents for not encouraging my creativity when I was younger, and furious with the world for not providing me with the opportunities that I deserved!' Peanut looked at Nerys's hands. They were shaking. I remember leaving the interview and just walking around London in a daze. I must have gone all the way from Kensington to Soho, because I suddenly found myself stood on the Charing Cross Road right outside the National Portrait Gallery. Galleries had always been my happy place, so I decided to go inside and try to cheer myself up. That's when I found it. 'Found what?' asked Peanut, already knowing the answer. 'That's when I found the door.