NO OFFENCE INTENDED
If you're mentioned here, it is only because I hold your works in deep
awe and high regard. _Please_ don't get cheesed off. None of you die,
I promise. C&C is always welcome, and flames are attention of a sort
at least... ;)
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THE BIT THAT COMES BEFORE THE TITLES TO TELL YOU WHAT YOU'VE MISSED
Do I really have to explain this? I mean, come on, the last part was
only about 25K, it won't take long to read and you can find it at the
URL at the end. What? You can't be bothered? Okay, briefly. I was
eight, living with the parents in a village that had been transported
brick-by-brick from its original position in middle England to just
outside Tokyo. My father worked for the Japanese government, fooling
visiting foreigners about the true nature of the product of the vast
silicon chip mines. One day a girl called Tuzi turned up and claimed
to be my sister. Somehow, everyone believed her. Even my parents.
But _I_ knew, oh yes.
It'll probably all become clear later.
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Republic of Desire
Part two: VIOLENT ATTACK! Or, I THINK I LOST THE PLOT...
Subi [20/02/00]
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It was about half-an-hour into the lesson when the fire bell rang. The
discordant clanging was greeted with the usual pandemonium that occurs
amongst schoolchildren when faced with the prospect of avoiding
lessons, however briefly. Mr Anno sighed, closed his book and told us
to be off into the playground in a calm and orderly fashion.
We all gathered up our belongings (no-one ever leaves them behind like
they're told to, do they?) and dutifully jammed ourselves in the
doorway by all trying to leave at once. Mr Anno sighed again, raised
his eyes to the unfamiliar ceiling and sorted us out with the business
end of his pointer.
Outside we formed into a long crocodile, which turned up its nose at
so many young oiks and left in a huff. We jostled for the best view.
Mr Anno muttered something about his psychiatrist and took the
register in a manner that can only be described as desultory.
It looked like being a good one. Not only were the fire engines
already tearing into the school grounds, sirens wailing, but also
several helicopter gunships were circling over the senior classroom
block, playing "Konya Wa Hurricane" from their speakers at a good
rockin' volume and doing the stuff with the loudhailers. Further down
the line from me Priss Asagiri hummed along happily.
"I prefer Elvis," said Biles, popping a strip of chewing gum into his
mouth.
Another helicopter came to a hover above our heads, threw down the
ropeladders and disgorged Section Nine a few yards from where we were
standing. They picked themselves up and hefted ludicrously huge
weaponry, except for Togasa, who wasn't a cyborg and couldn't lift
anything heavier than a machine gun. His face was a picture of
frustration.
"Okay," said Kusanagi, ignoring Togusa. "Thermoptics on. As soon as
Ishikawa and Batou go through the windows in the Fuchikomas, get in
there, spray the area, and kill everything. Got that?"
Everybody nodded. Sadly, they had already turned on their thermoptic
camouflage, so Kusanagi couldn't see them. "I _said_, got that?!"
"Yes chief!" they chorused.
"Then let's go!" They raced off across the tennis court and
disappeared into the senior block.
All was as tranquil as could be for a few moments, which wasn't very,
what with the music and the helicopters and the sirens and everything.
Then, just as "Konya Wa Hurricane" got to the guitar solo, the roof of
the senior block erupted, spewing huge blocks of concrete far into the
sky. One landed in the playground and took out most of the lower
fifth. We cheered mightily and threw our caps into the air in
appreciation. This was indeed a goodly display.
Beams of an evil light issued from the hole in the roof, sweeping the
sky in great searchlight arcs. The gunships poured hot lead into the
source of the light.
"I wonder why they still use cauldrons of hot lead instead of guns?"
asked Rally Vincent of no-one in particular.
However, these were only small gunships, and, as they could only carry
a token quantity of lead, they soon ran out and switched to the chain
guns. Rally moaned in pleasure. "Not a dry seat in the house," I
whispered to Tuzi, and received a dirty look from the half-Native
American in question. Tuzi grinned, as ever.
All this firepower had clearly roused whatever was in the senior
block, for suddenly from within there issued hundreds of horrible
black THINGS. Yea, a veritable multitude thereof. All teeth,
dripping slime and with what appeared to be, from this distance, three
legs. The appendage in the middle didn't seem to have a foot on the
end though. Some still carried the half-dressed remains of the
cheerleader squad in their claws.
I was suddenly _really_ glad I was allowed to wear boy's clothes to
school before they asked me to become a cheerleader.
The THINGS didn't get very far. With nary a thought for the still-
moving shapes of the victims, Section Nine opened fire in a somewhat
indiscriminate manner. Within seconds, all lay dead and some lay
dissolving.
"You know," I said to Biles and Tuzi as we trooped back into the
school to resume that days education. "I don't think I'll ever get
used to all these demon invasions."
Biles masticated thoughtfully. "This is a Japanese school, you have
to make allowances. After all," he continued, "How long is it since
they had to rebuild Shinjuku again?"
"I don't know," said Tuzi, scratching her long furry ears. "Three,
four days?"
"There you are then."
"Biles!" called Mr Anno, "Are you chewing?"
Biles swallowed the gum hastily. "No sir."
"You're lying, aren't you boy?"
"Yes sir."
"And I suppose you have enough of that gum for all of us?"
"Yes sir."
"Well then, pass it around, boy, don't keep us waiting."
Biles handed round his packet of Orbit. "I wonder how they got Maher
and the others in this little packet?" I mused. "Probably explains why
the next episode of EVA:R is taking so long, anyway."
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Back in the classroom Mr Anno finished the lesson on Jungian philosophy
and moved on to tax evasion, and how not to get caught at it. He was
just showing us some of many advantages of removing all of your body
hair when there came a knock at the door. "Come!" called Mr Anno, and
a lad wearing a bandanna entered bearing a note from the Headmaster.
"This note," said Mr Anno, after reading the boy's offering, "Should
have reached me several hours ago. This is most reticent of you boy, I
shall have to inform your teacher of your tardiness. What is your
name?"
"Ryoga Hibiki sir," said the boy.
"Ah." Mr Anno made the face that asked "why didn't I see _that_ one
coming?" "I suppose I should have seen _that_ one coming. And I also
suppose that it is pointless to ask you where your form room is?"
"Yes sir, I've never found it."
"Get out." The boy did. "This note informs me," continued Mr Anno,
"That the clean-up operation necessitated by this mornings little
incident will take the remainder of the day. The police have to seal
the dimensional breach and have requested that the school be cleared."
Jim Lazer put his hand up. "Of what sir?" he asked.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Cleared of what sir? What has the school been accused of?"
"Many things, Lazar, but none specific to this present situation. I
merely refer to the request made by the police that you remove your
persons to some location far away from here. You are hereby given the
afternoon off."
"Again, sir?"
"Indeed."
"Surely this will be detrimental to our education sir, it shouldn't be
allowed."
"There is very little I can do about it Lazar, unless you feel the
inclination to throw yourself into the interstitial rift currently on
the ground floor of the senior block to appease the hunger of the dark
ones."
Lazar picked his nose and examined the yield. "Outrageous."
"I couldn't agree more. You're not keen then?"
"Not really sir, no."
"Then go with Kami-Sama," said Mr Anno.
And we did.
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When you are eight years old, an afternoon off is one of the finest
things there is. It lasts for a far longer period of time than it
could possibly really contain, and is packed with such pregnant
possibilities for adventure as to make the recipient weep with joy. So
many different experiences offer themselves for the taking that the
mind is a whirl of fantastic choices.
Could I think of one? Could I bollocks.
"So what shall we do then?" asked Tuzi.
"Search me," I replied.
My classmates had less trouble filling in their time. Biles had gone
to continue his extra studies into the Edo period, Usagi and her
cronies had gone to a caf�, Rei Ayanami had found a wall to stare at,
Andrew Huang was staring at Rei staring at the wall and Ramna Saotome
was being pursued by a whole lot of girls who were flashing their
panties at him and beating the bejeasus out of each other.
"It's so unfair," I complained.
"What is?" asked Tuzi. "I'm sure girls will chase you when you get
older."
"No, it's just that there are so many things I _want_ to do right now,
but I can't because I'm not old enough," I said, lighting a cigarette
and popping open a can of Yebisu that I had stolen from the fridge that
morning. I took a long draught and continued. "I mean, I can't wait
until I'm twelve and I can start stealing cars."
She took the can and her own long pull. "Why don't you start now?"
"I'm too short, my feet can't reach the pedals."
"Well, until then, why don't we just sit around until something comes
up?" She parked her behind on a low wall and wouldn't give me the can
back.
"Oh yeah, like excitement and adventure will just walk along and offer
itself to us," I said sulkily, resenting the loss of my beer. She
kicked her heels against the wall and I was certain that I saw a weird
light briefly flash from the stones.
"Hey!" called a voice from the distance, "want to help us deliver these
things to the big old house on the hill?"
Tuzi grinned. "See?"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Now I'm sure _you_ know that big old houses on hills are bad news. I
certainly did. Any kid who has any survival instinct whatsoever, or
who has at least seen an episode of Scooby Doo, knows that they should
_never_, under _any_ circumstances, go near the big old house on the
hill.
What can I say? I was bored. Besides, there were other factors to be
taken into consideration.
The voices belonged to a girl called Alita, and her twin sister Gally.
They were in the same year as us, but a different class. I knew very
little about them, other than the fact that they were both stars of the
martial arts arena, much to the chagrin of Ranma. Although since the
last under-twelves all-in to-the-death karate tournament, where Alita
had sent her opponent's brain shooting out though her ears in the
final, they were now only permitted to compete against battalions of
tanks or other mechanised infantry. Panzers, I think the Germans call
them.
So, you can understand why the nebulous threats of the big old house on
the hill didn't bother me overmuch. They lived with their adoptive
father, Dr Ido, at his bakery and android repair shop. Occasionally
they would help out with deliveries.
"What _are_ these things, anyway?" I asked, opening one of the boxes.
"Flans? Who eats this much flan?!"
"Whoever lives in the big old house on the hill," said Gally, balancing
over fifty of the boxes on the end of her little finger. I wondered
exactly why she and Alita had asked Tuzi and I to help, but decided not
to argue.
Alita read the label. "Desty Nova, BSc MSc PhD, Professor (MAD) Tokyo
University, faculty of meddling with things that man was not meant to
wot of."
"MAD?" I asked. My sense of safety, even in the company of two
diminutive killing machines, was evaporating rapidly.
"Master of Applied Depravity," replied Gally.
"But of course," I could see where this was going. "Well, it's been a
pleasure ladies, and I'd _love_ to help you deliver delicacies and do
desperate derring do against the dragoons of darkness, but I'm afraid
I'm going to have to cry off. I've just remembered some pressing
business elsewhere. Come on Tuzi."
Tuzi pulled me aside and whispered in my ear. "We're not going
anywhere except the big old house on the hill. I thought you wanted
excitement and adventure."
"I had more in mind the kind that involved playing doctor or scrumping
apples. Although not the apples that grow in the Kuno garden again, I
was unconscious for three days last time." I made to leave, but sadly
it appeared that Tuzi was gripping my arm. What a time to discover
that she was easily as strong as the Ido twins were.
"That's the third gratuitous Ranma 1/2 reference in this part, and for
that we're definitely going with these two." She grinned again, and
there was more than a hint of "let's torment the sibling" in it this
time.
"Nothing you can say will make me take another step."
"You're standing in some doggy-do."
"Aw shit!" I danced about foolishly on one leg, inspecting the soles
of my kickers. "No I'm not."
"But you moved."
I muttered curses. "All right, you win. Pass some of those boxes over
here."
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It was a _proper_ big old house on the hill. Absolutely Gothic it was.
Twisted turrets, big doors, high thin windows, cupolas, overcast sky,
you name it, this one had it. You could imagine Mary Shelley thinking
up Frankenstein in it. "Ghormanghast" was one word that sprang to
mind, "goodbye" was another one. If Yosuke Kuroda ever considered
writing "Tenchi Muyo in Mortal Peril", _here_ was a place he could set
it.
We pushed past the mob of villagers who were thrusting flaming torches
towards one of the higher windows, from which flashes of light
periodically bathed the landscape in a blood-red glow, and rang the
bell. The door was opened by a man with three heads, I did _not_
consider this a good sign.
"Follow me," he chorused, and scuttled off down a dark corridor on his
eight tentacles.
"That's one way of telling a mad scientist," I remarked as we shuffled
off our shoes and began lugging the many crates of flan after him. "No
matter how much of a genius they may be, they never remember to pay the
electricity bill."
"Oh, I have to do all this to keep the inspectors happy," said a high-
pitched voice from behind us. I nearly soiled my underlinen. _That_
was _not_ a sane voice. _That_ was a voice that locked up young women
in towers and had a servant called Igor. It was a voice that said
"They thought me mad, you know, MAD!" And it was damn right too.
I turned, very, very slowly. Well you do in situations like this. I
took a full minute to complete a one hundred and eighty-degree circuit,
with my spine trying to stay where it was the entire time.
"Uncle Nova," sighed Alita, "Will you _stop_ using that voice every
time we come up here?"
"And turn the sodding lights on," added Gally.
"Sorry, my darlings," said the voice, dropping an octave or two and
adopting a much more pleasant tone. "But I've got the inspectors from
the University in. If I don't keep up appearances I'll lose my chair."
"All right, but give us a torch."
A beam of light suddenly illuminated a ghastly face from below, like
you do to scare your fellows on Halloween night. It was old, it was
wrinkled, it was grinning manically with far too many teeth. It wore a
strange mark upon its forehead and a stranger contraption across its
eyes. It was topped by a ring of wavy white hair that encircled a high
domed head that rose out of it like an iceberg from a sea of Arctic
foam.
"Boo!" it said, and I _did_ disgrace myself.
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" was my contribution to the conversation.
"Uncle!" shouted Gally. There was a laugh, and the lights came on. I
stood there, mouth and bladder wide open, and watched a middle-aged man
absolutely _killing_ himself laughing as the twins looked on in
disapproval.
"Just keeping in practise, my dears," he said, wiping the tears from
his eyes. "And who is this that you've brought with you?" he added,
turning his gaze upon Tuzi and myself.
"Just some people we know from school," said Alita.
"Charmed," he addressed Tuzi. "And you are...?"
"Tuzi," she said, "And this is - "
"Hold on," I said, "Inspectors? Lights? UNCLE?! You were having me
on you BASTA -"
"Remember how good they are at martial arts," whispered Tuzi. I shut
my mouth, feeling somewhat hard done by.
"Ho and hee!" went Nova, for it was that very man. "Come thus and
hence my children, and there shall be rare sweetmeats, music and
dancing girls."
"We're a little young for dancing girls, Uncle Nova," said Gally.
"Yeah," I said, "Have you got any Yebisu?"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
"You see," explained the Professor, as we walked towards the
hospitality suite, "The University employs me to play the part of the
classic mad scientist. The one proviso of my rather lucrative contract
is that I must maintain the stereotype at all times."
"It works, believe me," I said.
"To the uninitiated, yes," he sighed, "Yet they demand ever more
accuracy, and send teams of inspectors to ensure I am keeping my side
of the bargain. They provide the house, which I keep in dust and
darkness. They provide extensive laboratories which I keep populated
by stuffed and mounted fantastic creatures."
"And where do you get them?" asked Tuzi. "Do you catch them on the
island of Lodoss?"
"No, the Godzilla workshop makes them out of bubble wrap and chicken
wire. Excuse me." He stopped abruptly and unlocked a door from an
enormous bunch of keys. The room beyond was bare, apart from a red
strobe light propped up against the window, which he turned off at the
socket.
"Thank you, my friends," he called, throwing up the window and
addressing the mob of villagers below. "The inspectors have gone, you
may go. Remuneration will be provided to each and all on the morrow."
"You mean you even hire the howling mob of villagers?" I asked
incredulously, as he pulled his head back into the room and shut the
window.
"Only recently," he sighed again. "A new young chap on the University
inspection committee came up with that one." He shuddered. "I dread
to think what will happen next. Mayhap they will have me taking
deliveries from resurrectionists in the middle of the night."
We all looked on in mute sympathy as he relocked the door, and sighed a
third time. "Come," he said, brightening. "To the suite. It was
Yebisu you wanted, wasn't it, my lad?"
And he did have some Yebisu as it happens, and of course there was an
awful lot of flan, too. The flan proved to be what they describe as an
acquired taste, which usually means that it is one that no man would
ever wish to have to acquire, but was actually perfectly palatable when
washed down with a can or two. Per mouthful.
We sat upon gaudily coloured velvet cushions, and ate to the sound of
the Star Wars Cantina Band, who had included Professor Nova's house on
their tour of the galaxy. We were waited upon by the three-headed,
eight-tentacled man and two others of a likewise limb count. I felt a
good deal more comfortable about them once the Professor had explained
to me that he _hadn't_ in fact cooked them up and sown them together in
his laboratory, but had employed them once their contract as extras in
Devilman had expired, and they couldn't afford the return flight home
to Arcturus.
"Feel free to feed your face," he said, and I did. "Cigarette?" he
asked, proffering a humidor once I had come to a halt some hours later.
I belched mightily and loosened my belt. "Don't mind if I do," I said,
taking one and sniffing it. "What are they?"
"Egyptian," replied Professor Nova. "I have them especially prepared
for me by Ionides of Alexandria. He sends me a thousand at a time, and
I grieve to say that I have to arrange for a fresh supply every
fortnight. Bad, sir, very bad; but an old man has few pleasures.
Tobacco and my work - that is all that is left to me."
"I'd love to believe that," I said, lighting up. "But I don't."
"And why is that?" asked a shocked and scandalised Professor.
"Because that's a direct quote from Sherlock Holmes. "The Adventure of
the Golden Pince-Nez" if I remember correctly, published in "The Return
of Sherlock Holmes" in the year 1905 by George Newnes, and in The
Strand magazine before that."
He offered the humidor to Tuzi, who refused, saying she'd have one of
her own. The twins didn't smoke. "Is that so?" he said.
"Yeah, so come on, tell me where they're really from." I finished the
one currently between my lips and took and lit another, secreting
several in my pocket. They were rather good. "I won't mind. Just so
long as they're not Martian," I added, glaring at Tuzi. She pulled
down an eyelid and stuck out her tongue in the now classic BEEDAH
gesture.
"Then I shall tell you the story," said the Professor.
"Are you going to ask us if we're sitting comfortably?" I asked.
"Are you?" he said.
"Very much." The others readily agreed with me. Tuzi pinched me on
the arm in a manner that said "Shut up and let him tell the story."
"I knew you were, that's why I wasn't going to ask," he said, sitting
back with a flourish.
"That's a lovely flourish," said Gally. Did you have that the last
time we came?"
"No, my dear," replied the Professor, "It's Chinese. A girl with
bonbori and a very bad accent came around last week selling them."
Tuzi glared at me and held up four fingers. "Knock off the Ranma 1/2
stuff, or you'll regret it, okay?" she mouthed, silently.
"The story," I said hurriedly.
"Indeed," said the Professor, placing the flourish on the floor beside
him. "When I was young, I did as many do, and I travelled. I
travelled far and wide, to the heights of the Marina Trench and the
depths of Tibet. To the Arctic deserts and the snow-blown wastes of
the Sahara. I went down to the moon and up to Rygenpopo, where dwells
the king of this world."
"Hang on," I said. "There's something not quite right here."
"This was _long_ ago," said the Professor.
"Oh I see."
"Far and wide. And by the blessing of Dharma I was even able to leave
this mortal plane in astral form and explore the universe. I was
searching, you see, searching for marvels. In particular I sought
creatures. Fantastic creatures, for they were my obsession."
"I thought you said the Godzilla people made all your creatures," I
said.
"Shhh!" said Tuzi.
"I did, and they do. Now. But back then in my youth I saw far greater
and more wondrous sights than those pale and sad imitations. That's
why the University gave me this job, you see. Because I, I alone
amongst academia _know_ what fantastic creatures are supposed to look
like."
"Stone me," I said. Tuzi hit me. "Ouch," I continued.
"Thank you, young lady. Yet at some point on my travels I became
jaded. I had seen so many marvels, sights to leave a normal man
stunned in stupefaction, that I, in my arrogance, felt that there was
nothing left to see. That I had beheld all, every single wonder that
the cosmos had to offer."
"And then?" I asked.
"And then what?"
"That's what _I_ mean. There's always an 'and then' in this type of
story. All right, all right!" I continued to Tuzi who was menacing me
from the next cushion. "I'll shut up."
"There is indeed an 'and then'," the Professor told us. "It goes like
this. And then, in a bleak, wind-blasted land, a festering
inhospitable hellhole I regretted ever entering, I came across a man.
An old man, an ancient, living in a rude hut. And no," he added, as he
saw my mouth opening. "It was not shaped like a willy or a bottom. It
was rude as in primitive."
I shut my mouth. The man was psychic.
"I had no wish to stay in that godforsaken place, but I was curious.
It was, after all, curiosity that had begun my travels. So I asked the
man why he stayed in such a spot when not seven leagues to the south
the very ground flowed with milk and honey."
Messy, I thought, but said nothing. Tuzi still gave me a look though.
How did she know?
"'I stay here,' he said, " continued the Professor, "'Because I am the
guardian. The guardian of the beast. It must never leave this place,
and there are many who would steal it.'
"I haughtily asked to see what foul specimen could possibly have
evolved in this land, and the man laughed, saying the sight would drive
me mad. I laughed in my turn and said I had seen all, what had I to
fear? What else could there possibly be?
"'You have seen no sight such as this,' said the man, and he spat into
the wind.
"'Show me then', I challenged.
"'Very well,' replied the man, and beckoned me within the hut."
Aye-aye, I thought, nudge-nudge, wink-wink, and received another blow
to the head for that one.
"Within there was no beast, but, upon a gilded cushion, there rested a
creature of such indescribable beauty that the breath left my body in a
gasp and did not return for fully two minutes. I have never been able
to find the words to do justice to the sight that met my eyes, so I
will not try."
Cop-out, I thought. Tuzi didn't hit me this time. Most likely she
agreed with me.
"Let it only be said that I was filled with the instant desire to
possess this beast. I _had_ to have it. Yet I knew that the old man
would not part with it no matter what I offered him in exchange. Not
for riches, not for treasures, not for deeds. I balked at the thought
of cold-blooded murder, yet I _had_ to have this fabulous being. And
then, the old man himself provided the solution.
"'It is no hardship to stay in this place,' he said, 'So long as I have
the beauty of the beast to raise my spirits I am content. Yet for all
that it has done for me I have failed it.'
"'How so?' I enquired.
"'I grow old,' he replied, 'I am not long for this world. Yet I must
find a replacement for myself to guard the beast after I am dead and
gone.' He shook his head. 'It is too late. I shall die, and thieves
and brigands will steal it from under the nose of my carcass.'
"'How did you come to be the beast's guardian?' I asked, 'Surely you
shall be replaced in the same manner?'
"'I came to this place like you, as a traveller, many years ago, and
found the guardian of that time dying. He blessed the gods that had
sent me here and begged me to stay and replace him. I gazed upon the
beast and was captivated, and agreed. He died that very night and is
buried hence.' He pointed with his stick towards a small mound a few
yards away. It was not the only such mound, there were scores of them
scattered around the hut.
"'Then your prayers are answered,' I said, 'For the same has happened
as it must have happened many times before. I am awed by the
magnificence of the beast and will happily devote my life to its
protection.'
"The old man raised his hands in benediction, weeping with gratitude.
He sang praises in a high quavery voice, leaping for joy. Suddenly he
clasped his hands to his scrawny chest and fell down dead.
"I seized my chance. I marvelled once more at the beast's comeliness,
enhanced as it was by the thought that it was now _mine_. I lifted it
from its cushion and placed it gently in my Gladstone bag. And then I
had it away on my toes as fast as I could, leaving that place, and my
deeds, far behind."
We sat in silence, in horror of the evils the Professor had committed,
no matter how much he regretted them now.
"I was not so guilty as I am certain you are all thinking," said the
Professor. "I had every intention of protecting the beast, I simply
saw no reason why I had to perform my task in such an unpleasant
locale."
Fair point, I thought.
"Yet there was a reason. I brought the beast back to civilisation and
prepared to display it to my learned colleagues. Every distinguished
alumni and illuminati of every seat of learning in the world gathered
in the hall where I was to reveal it to the world, brought by my
description of its aspect. Yet when opened the bag before the
assembled multitude, a foul stink issued from within, and set them
retching."
"It was dead?" I asked. "I'm not surprised. It probably ran out of
air. You killed it you bas -"
The Professor held up a hand. "It was not dead. Such was my first
thought, that the smell was of the beast's rotting corpse. Yet as I
peered into the bag, eyes watering and a handkerchief across my nose,
I could see it moving pitifully within. Its beauty was no more. My
theory is that it was somehow able to draw the splendour of nature from
the place from which I took it and channel it into itself. That
explains why that place had such an evil aspect. Yet it was unable to
do so from any other location, and thus reverted to what I assume to be
its natural, hideous state.
"Well, as you can most likely ascertain, my travels were at an end. I
continued to perform the task of the beast's guardian, for I had given
my word to the old man and I felt that I must atone for my crime in
some manner. Eventually I came here, to Tokyo and the University, to
spend the rest of my days."
"But what happened to the beast?" I asked.
"Nothing, it's still alive."
"_Still ALIVE_?!"
"Still alive, and within this very building. I guard it still, though
I can no longer bring myself to look upon it. Nor can I bring it upon
myself to attempt to restore it to the place from which I stole it. I
fear that the ghosts of the old man and his predecessors would visit
terrible retribution upon me were I ever to return there."
"Gross," I said. "But what does this have to do with the cigarettes?"
"Well, one thing about the beast is still marvellous. Just because
something is ugly does not mean that it is not capable of _producing_
beauty. Take a look at John Lennon for example. No oil painting, yet
he could sure call a great tune, as the beatniks have it."
"You mean -" I said, turning green.
"Yes. As the Arabians do with the produce of their camels, so do I
with the produce of the beast. The tobacco in the cigarettes is rolled
from its dried dung. Mellow, fruity little smoke, isn't it?"
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You can probably guess what happened next, can't you? It was the first
really serious vomit of my young life. Everything I had eaten in the
preceding hours, plus my breakfast and my school lunch, came back up in
a tidal wave that engulfed all before it. The cushions, the empty
plates, the humidor, the Professor and his flourish, all were thrown
aside by the sheer volume of the torrent. Pungent splashes slapped
against the walls and bits of carrot (_always_ carrots, _why_?) pinged
off the ceiling.
All this didn't seem to faze the Professor in the slightest, which lead
me to the conclusion that this was by no means the first time he had
told this particular story. The mess was very quickly cleared up by
the three Arcturans and their many tongues. The Professor explained
that human stomach bile has a similar taste to a rare delicacy on their
homeworld.
I staggered out of the house, blinking in the lowering sunlight with
Tuzi supporting me. She was laughing fit to burst. I drew in deep,
heaving breaths. "What's so funny?" I asked, between gasps.
"Nothing," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "But maybe
that'll teach you not to go thinking your life is boring and wishing
for adventure." I shrugged her arm off my shoulders.
"Spare me the platitudes," I spat, lighting one of my own cigarettes,
its pedigree beyond reproach. "Why didn't you have one of those
ghastly things? You never stop nicking mine."
She took one from my packet. "Because I knew what they were made of,"
she said.
"WHAT?!"
"I knew," she stated. "I recognised their smell straight away. I used
to live in a place where herds of animals like the Professor described
lived. The people there loved the tobacco they made. Never fancied it
myself though"
"You _knew_?!" I cried, aghast at this betrayal. "You knew, and you
let me sit there and puff away knowing the inevitable outcome and the
danger to my constitution?"
"Yup."
"Bitch," I said. "No _way_ are you my sister."
"Everyone else disagrees with you," she grinned, in a manner that was
_really_ beginning to get on my nerves. "It's all for your own good.
You'll thank me for it one day." And, as it happens, she was right. I
did. Not right now though.
"I am done," I said, clutching at my aching diaphragm and playing for
sympathy. "The strain has been too much for my juvenile frame. Let me
lie down and pass away, leaving the world in ignorance of what I would
have had to offer in later life."
"Okay," she said, and started off down the path.
I scrambled up. "Hold on, I'm not gone yet." Mumbling unspeakable
oaths that I was far too young to know, I followed. An unearthly howl
from the direction of the house quickened my pace.
The sun was setting, and it soothed my fears and temper. "I wonder
what all that stuff the Professor was saying about the world being
inside out, or upside down, or whatever was about?" I remarked, not
really expecting the answer that I received.
"Oh, I don't think its anything we need to worry about." She exhaled
smoke and ground the ciggy out under her shoe.
"Oh. Good."
"Yet."
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Subi [20/02/00]
subi@mono211.com
http://www.gameart.com/4ca
[end]