Ticklers

by David Fletcher

  'Look,' interrupted Blobe again, 'why do you think we're having this meeting without Kanker? Don't you understand? We're running the League while he's away. We're running the whole show. And that means it's us you should tell…'

  Smegerill interrupted the interrupter.

  'Is it about Grader?'

  'Ah well, errh… no, not really,' replied Meitchars. 'Although there is a connection…'

  'Come on,' said Vorskyn. 'You've got to tell us. We haven't got time to sit here playing guessing games.'

  'Well, if you think…'

  'Yes, we do think. So come on. Let's hear this very important news. And I want to understand why you felt you needed to bring the whole Pandiloop office with you as well. So come on, spit it all out.'

  'Alright, I'll tell you. It isn't a secret. It's just I thought I should tell Kanker first. And you'll see why when I explain what it is.'

  And with this caveat made, Meitchars removed the box from under his arm and placed it carefully on the boardroom table between Gleeze and Smegerill. He was sure it was the first time most of those seated around the table were aware of its existence. Then he pressed a small button on the side of the box and its top became translucent, then transparent, and within ten seconds, non-existent. Pushing it towards Smegerill, he began to speak again.

  'Will each of you take just one object from the box please. And then, when you've all got one, I'll explain what they are - and what they mean for the League.'

  Smegerill reached into the box and selected a small cylindrical object tapered at both ends. It was covered in a film of fine yellow dust, some of which immediately transferred itself to his fingers.

  'Here, what's this stuff - all this yellow stuff?' he enquired gruffly.

  'It's on all of them,' replied Meitchars. 'Can I explain what it is when everyone has one? It'll be easier.'

  Smegerill just mumbled and pushed the box towards Blobe who sat on his right. He reached in and extracted a chunky white thing. On one side of it were three metal pins, and the pins and the white thing itself were all covered in the same fine yellow powder. As he examined it, he pushed the box to his right, and this process continued around the table until all but Gleeze had one of Meitchars' goodies in his hands. Gleeze, it appeared, was still not interested in the real world around him.

  'Thank you for being patient, gentlemen,' continued the visitor to the Council. 'I hope you've now all had a chance to study what you've taken from the box. And I'd now like to ask whether any one of you knows what he's chosen.'

  'Is this some sort of game?' snapped Smegerill, who clearly had no idea what he'd chosen.

  'Oh no,' said Meitchars, 'this is all deadly serious, I assure you.'

  'Can you give us a clue?' asked Wojjer. 'Like what they're all used for - or where they all came from.'

  'Well, they're all used for something different. But I can tell you where they all came from. But first of all I'd better tell you how I came to be there - and how, when I was there, I found them. And then what they are.'

  Meitchars cleared his throat, smiled his odd smile and then began to recount his tale to a now wide-awake Council.

  'As I'm sure you all know, I've been out hunting Grader recently - with our new knight on Pandiloop: Renton Tenting. Without much success, I have to say. But we did end up on this small moon just off a planet called Peton. And well, to cut a long story short, we made use of an old underground chamber there, one that dates from some time in the terra-era - and that was once used to monitor nuclear testing. At least, that's what I thought. But now I know it had a second use, probably its primary use. The nuclear testing was merely a cover.'

  'Nuclear testing as merely a cover?' interjected Smegerill. 'You must be out of your mind.'

  'No, I don't think so,' responded Meitchars. 'And you won't in a minute.'

  Smegerill huffed.

  'You see, I found another chamber - just off the control chamber. By accident. I'd tripped. And as I tried to catch myself, I pulled on this bracket on a wall. And there it was, this big hole in the wall. And through the hole, a new chamber. A secret room.

  'Of course, we went in to have a look. And what we found was incredible, quite incredible. It was an index room. An index to a time capsule. Only not the ten foot sort that gets buried in the garden now and again, but the biggest time capsule in the universe - all within this moon - within a series of further chambers, tens of thousands of chambers. We've reckoned their combined volume's equivalent to about thirty thousand AT-type star freighters. It's amazing. And they're full of everything you could ever imagine - all of it from the terra-era and before.

  'We've had a look in some of these chambers. The index room tells you where they are and how to reach them - through a network of corridors - as well as what's in them. There's everything - from these small bits and pieces I've brought here today to full-size sorts of things - like aeroplanes and cars, cars with those combustion things in them. And there's even some railway machines. Can you imagine: real, full-size railway machines? And then there are videos, photos, furniture, clothes, all sorts of industrial stuff - everything you could ever think of. It's quite phenomenal. Oh, and to answer your question, Smegerill, the yellow dust is everywhere. It's what the moon's made of. And now everything's covered in it. And it looks pretty damn eerie, I can tell you.

  'And incidentally, that thing you've got there is what they call a fountain pen. And Blobe, you've got some sort of electrical connection device. And…'

  'Meitchars, if what you're telling us is true…' interrupted Vorskyn.

  '…we've got the most valuable single asset in the universe,' finished Meitchars. 'It's worth an unimaginable amount.

  'We've recently bust an antiques racket - back in the Pandiloop sector. And what we recovered was worth a mint, an absolute fortune. But you could lose the lot of it in just one of these chambers. And what's more, most of it was just old stuff, old artefacts and things - and by no means unique. Whereas some of the stuff in this moon…well, it's not just unique, it's never-been-seen-before unique. It's fabulous. We can run the League on it for years. Well no, not years, I mean indefinitely.'

  Vorskyn narrowed his eyes. 'What do you mean, run the League on it? Indefinitely?'

  'It's League property. We found it, and it was on an unadopted moon. So nobody else has a claim on it. So it's ours to use as we like.'

  'Yes, I know all about that,' interrupted Vorskyn impatiently. 'But what about this running the League on it?'

  'Well, just that,' replied Meitchars. 'We can exhibit it all around the universe - for a price. And with the income it'll generate, we can easily support the League - and still have plenty to spare. We can become a sort of foundation, taking what we need of the income, but then using the surplus for other causes and things. Oh, and of course, we can stop charging fees. We can become a free service again. A genuinely chivalrous setup - just like it was when the League was first founded.'

  Smegerill began to titter. Blobe's reaction was to look totally dumbfounded again. He was clearly incapable of grasping what had been suggested or of thinking it could be suggested in the first place. It was left to Vorskyn to respond to Meitchars' proposals with words.

  'Very noble,' he began, smiling, 'very noble indeed. I'm sure our Senior Knight will be as impressed as I am - both with what you've found and with what you're suggesting we do with it. It's all very generous of you. It really is.' Then the smile disappeared. 'But get real, boy. You're just not thinking straight. You can't just let everybody else have a bite of our own good luck - and at our expense. It's just not on. It's crazy. Giving surpluses to good causes? Doing work for free? You must be mad. Just think of what we actually do. Hell, the idea of our not charging for it is just bizarre. Just completely bizarre.

  'So's all this exhibiting and income shit. I mean, can you really see old Kanker buying any of that?'

  'No way,' agreed Blobe. 'I know what he'll do. He'll just start selling the stuff - straightaway. He'll have a fie
ld day. It'll be brilliant.'

  'Hey, we're going to be stinking rich!' exclaimed Smegerill. 'Stupendously, staggeringly, stonkingly stinking rich. Every damn one of us. It'll be friggin' wonderful, pig-friggin' wonderful. I can hardly believe it.'

  'Yes, just think,' chipped in Wojjer, 'we'll be able to do anything we want. Start our own business. Hell, our very own League… Or we could retire. We could bloody well retire.

  'How do you think we should share it all out?'

  'What do you mean?' shouted Smegerill. 'How do you think we will, you great tosser? We've got a profit sharing system, haven't we? And what's wrong with that? It's just that there'll be a few more profits - like a lot more profits. Any problems with that?'

  'Oh no,' grinned Wojjer. 'Sounds eminently reasonable to me. In fact, what else could we do? There isn't really an alternative, is there?'

  'I suppose the troopers'll put in for a pay rise,' said Blobe. 'There's no way we can keep this thing quiet. And they're bound to want a share of it.'

  'Well sod them!' growled Smegerill. 'Since when have we been handing out profits to the proles round here? And I don't see why we should start now - just because the profits got bigger.'

  'Yes,' said Vorskyn quietly, 'but we've got to be careful here. We've got to make the most of our good fortune, but without spoiling what we've already got. No sense in getting carried away. We're going to have to be a little discreet. Even put a few caps on personal spending, that sort of thing. So it doesn't look so obvious - you know…' he chuckled, '…that we're all rolling in the stuff. It wouldn't be right, would it? Us being chivalrous knights an' all.'

  Then he started to laugh. He laughed like some poor demented idiot. And the other idiots around the table began to join in until the whole Council was convulsed in a fit of manic mirth - save the silent Gleeze - and the silent outsider, Meitchars.

  Only when the outburst of merriment had finally run out of steam, and the room had subsided into an exhausted quiet, did the outsider speak. And when he spoke this time, all the meekness in his voice had vanished. The Council was now about to hear the real Meitchars for the first time today.

  They would not enjoy it.

  'You fools,' he started, 'you shameless, greedy fools. To think, the League is in the hands of men like you: Kanker's empty-headed puppets. No wonder he's been able to wreak havoc. No wonder the League is in such a mess.'

  Eyes widened around the table and Wojjer's jaw dropped open again. Only Vorskyn, it seemed, had the composure to mount a challenge to this surprise assault.

  'How dare you?' he shouted. 'Who the…'

  But his reproach was never finished. Light overtook his sound, and a large round hole appeared in the centre of the boardroom table. Meitchars had drawn a photon pistol from nowhere and discharged it through the middle of the Council's workbench. Its members gasped as one.

  'If any of you wants a head to match,' said Meitchars quietly, 'all you have to do is interrupt me. In the absence of an audience with our leader, I'm going to address the Council. And I want the Council to listen. You know, like you do when Kanker's talking. I want no interruptions. Do you understand, no interruptions at all? You know I won't hesitate…'

  It was very clear that they did know. Meitchars had something of a reputation in the League, and they were all too aware of it. They would be silent as requested - and attentive. Very attentive. Photon discharges had that effect.

  'Forgive me if this address lacks polish, gentlemen,' began Meitchars, 'but it is something of an impromptu presentation. I may have been considering its content for years now, but I've had no time at all to work on its style. However, I'm sure you'll understand. In fact, I know you'll understand. Because you're all very good at understanding, aren't you? It's probably what you do best. Understanding how to appease Kanker, understanding how to survive on this rotten Council, understanding how to feed off the League. The list goes on, gentlemen, doesn't it?

  'And the worst result of all this understanding is what you've let Kanker get away with. He's poisoned the League and you've done nothing to stop him. Nothing at all. You've let him turn what was a truly noble organisation, faithful to its founder's original ideals, into a ruthless business machine. You've allowed him to harness the true spirit of the Knights of this League - and their troopers - and drive it towards commerce - commerce for commerce's sake. An uncaring, unfeeling sort of commerce, something old Patheringfan would have been sickened by - and would have stamped out in days.

  'We're now ruled by profit and to the exclusion of everything else. There's no room for what being a knight was really all about: true adventure, the challenge of the unknown, meeting one's own ideals - and chivalry. Remember that? Chivalry. It's what we charge extra for now, isn't it? If it's cost effective, of course. If it can earn us another buck. But don't ever give it away. That wouldn't make sense, would it? Not in the senseless regime we've got ourselves now, Kanker's regime. The regime of a tyrant, the regime of a business tyrant.

  'And this tyrant now thinks he's a god. Infallible, all-powerful, un-checkable. With a bunch of seedy archangels who sit around this table and encourage him. When did you last challenge anything he did, anything of real consequence where just possibly he was wrong and you all knew it? Hell, have you ever done it? Or do you all have to submit to total compliance before you're allowed into this room, neutered at the outset to avoid any disturbing debate, any sacrilegious act in the sight of the almighty?

  'But I'm being naïve, am I not, gentlemen? Because I'm ignoring how this particular god has created his kingdom out there and his heaven here on Korpulund. It's back to commerce again, isn't it? Only this time, commerce at its corrupt worst and conducted within the ranks of the League itself. And you know what I'm talking about, gentlemen, because you're as much implicated in this corruption as is Kanker himself. And you're its prime beneficiaries. If a god wants unquestioning archangels around his throne - and a host of adoring cherubs in his heaven - he has to pay for them, doesn't he? Even if it's with other people's money. And for “other people”, read “other knights”, the real knights out there in the real universe doing a real job of work… Take their profits away and pile them into the laps of the fat acolytes. Give the acolytes here on Korpulund so much bloody money they can hardly stagger away from the throne room - or think about anything other than praising the lord - and their own good fortune.

  'And that way, everybody's happy. God Kanker has all the adoration he could ever cope with - and all the support he could ever need for his cancerous ways. His cherubs have all the money they could ever wish for - and the prospect of even more if they're called to the Council - unlike their fellow knights out there in the sticks… And then you, gentlemen, you his archangels, you are now not just wealthy but wealthy beyond your dreams. Although even that, it seems, still isn't enough…'

  Meitchars studied the faces of the Council knights around the table. They were impassive. Attentive but inattentive to his message. What he had told them, they already knew - even if they had trouble admitting it to themselves. But he was unconcerned. He was just content to be able to confront them with their corruption after all this time. And he had more to say. He would stir them yet.

  'I was disappointed not to find Kanker here,' he continued. 'But his empty office has provided me with something of a bonus.'

  Some of the impassive faces betrayed just the hint of interest…

  'You see, your God-king spies on you. Everything that is said in this room can be heard in his office - and is recorded there.'

  Interest on more faces. And on some others, the traces of concern.

  'So you see, I was able to listen in on your erudite debate on the matter of succession and how you conduct yourselves when the Great One's away. It was all very revealing. I now know you're all completely stupid as well as completely corrupt. It was an exercise in the absurd, one of the most puerile displays I've had the misfortune to witness for years. You are all idiots, gentlemen, absolute and complete id
iots.

  'And if I can see that, then I'm sure my colleagues in the wilderness will as well - when they receive recordings of this meeting - and of all your previous meetings. And that should do it, I think. Yes, you may have got away with it up to now. But when they see this lot, the spell will be broken. And by something called “ridicule”, the biggest dose of ridicule you'll ever have to suffer. And Kanker and his Korpulund corruption as well. Even he won't be able to withstand it. And then you'll be finished. All of you. And not before time.'

  Now the faces betrayed real concern - and Wojjer looked splendidly dismayed.

  'But before all that, I need to return to the matter of the giant time capsule and the huge influx of wealth it will provide. You know, the wealth you've already divided amongst us all so fairly - on the back of that odious profits system. Well, I'm sorry, but I have to tell you that it's all one big hoax. The only bit that was true was our visit to Peton's moon. The rest is baloney. Just a device.

  'And my apologies, gentlemen. The hoax could have ended when I distributed those objects, the ones you now all have. But I got carried away. I just had to go on and make the story more elaborate - and more credible. Just so I could see how you'd react. And you didn't disappoint me, not one little bit.

  'You confirmed everything I'd suspected about your greed. You displayed gross disloyalty to the League and all it stands for. And you were quite prepared to do anything to satisfy your own overblown appetites - at the expense of everyone else. You appal me.'

  There were now expressions of confusion, disappointment and disbelief around the table.

  'And as your vow of silence doesn't allow you to ask me why I concocted the hoax, I will tell you. It is, after all, the real reason I'm here. And it's all about the way you're neglecting not just the whole League, but your own office here on Korpulund. You see, you have somebody here who is sending out instructions to have Knights of the League killed. It smacks of abysmal standards of security, and it just shouldn't be allowed to happen. There may even be more than one, in which case, it's even worse. Your security is plainly sloppy - to the point of it being totally ineffectual.