The Triple Goddess

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The Triple Goddess Page 95

by Ashly Graham


  ‘Actually, all the jealous rival chef had to contribute was that, whatever the featured items were, they were bound to be poorly prepared and matched with the wrong sauce, and he could do better if someone would confide where they might be obtained; which earned him a hard look from his naturalist boyfriend, indicating that there would be a need to talk later.

  ‘When Anatole informed me of what was taking place, I told him to leave the matter to me, and I came out to ask the quartet either to pipe down and order something, or to leave.

  ‘Upon which the bearded Johnny from the Durrell Trust, who resembled its founder, Gerald Durrell, and who had obviously oiled his tonsils with mid-morning whisky before arriving, to the detriment of the sensitivity of his palate and his speech and his language, and who in his heated condition was moved to be sarcastic, egged on by his wife, uttered words to the effect that—I am omitting the expletives—he thought it was going it a bit for a restaurant, however well reputed, to assign monetary value to creatures of such rarity when they were in a state of decease, since, although this technically rendered them eligible for consumption, it also lent taxonomic credence to the possibility that they might be extinct, or that at most there might only be a very few remaining in the wild, thus making it impossible to put a price on their heads, as their numbers dwindled, or whichever parts of their anatomy were on the menu that had formerly been attached to their heads, irrespective of how well or badly or to anyone’s taste they had been cooked, and furthermore…

  ‘I intervened to reply, also warmly and at great length regarding nothing in particular that I can remember, it perforce being an ad-lib extempore performance enacted as part of a bad dream, possibly caused by something I ate, and ended by enquiring as to whether the bearded Johnny might have anything further to say on the subject before we bid each other good-day, and if he did, I didn’t want to hear it, so he might as well save his breath, etc., etc., in which case I had the honour to remain, Sir, etc., Yours faithfully, Henry James. PS Now get out of my restaurant.

  ‘So much for diplomacy. The Nosy Parkers immediately called the authorities on their mobile phones, and in no time the food inspectors, who were eating free somewhere across town, arrived with a dozen pale zoologists in tow, escorted by five husky detectives with a warrant to search the premises.

  ‘After they had barricaded the doors and posted themselves around to make sure we weren’t able to remove or destroy any evidence, the Durrellish man opened one of the freezers in the storeroom, and took out what he identified as a Melamprosops phaeosoma, the world’s rarest bird. Just as incriminating was the discovery of two hispid hares, a hairy-nosed wombat, a snub-nosed monkey—noses were our Wednesday feature—and a dwarf blue sheep, Pseudois schaeferi.

  ‘The group didn’t just throw a wobbly but went berserk with rage, and there were a few tense moments when I had a real fear that they might deny the law and the prophets, and Matthew 7:12 me in reverse, that is, whatsoever things I had caused to be done to others, they should do to me by removing me and my business links from the food chain.

  ‘With the exception of a blue duck, Hymenolaimus malacorhynchos…blue food was “in” at the time…which an enterprising commis was able to get down the waste disposal before the grinding sound gave him away, our entire inventory was exposed and we were arrested, loaded into a paddy wagon, and hauled down to West End Central police station. There I spent the night in a cell next to a pair of off-duty police dogs, which kept me awake by jumping up against the bars, and making it plain that they were keen to avenge their dumb cousins by dining on chef tartare.

  ‘As I dreamed it, the humiliation resulting from my hubris was total and swift, for, like the Javan rhino hindquarters that had been found hanging in the aging room, I hadn’t a leg to stand on. There was nothing that the King’s Counsel who was defending me at the Old Bailey, against charges of baking, broiling, boiling, sautéing, frying, grilling, roasting, barbecuing, pickling, poaching, and serving raw, endangered members of the animal kingdom, could say in my defence; except that I had once allegedly been overheard asking a plateful of Talus snails, of the Sonorella clan, how many more of the little darlings there were where they came from: and that this might be interpreted as an expression of sympathy—like the Walrus weeping over the Oysters that he and the Carpenter were sharing in Lewis Carroll’s Alice through the Looking-Glass, as “With sobs and tears he [the Walrus] sorted out |Those of the largest size |Holding his pocket-handkerchief |Before his streaming eyes.”.

  ‘My KC had hoped to draw Judge Brenda “Bullets” Blazingham, who looked like Cardinal Wolsey played by Orson Welles in Fred Zinnemann’s film of Robert Bolt’s play A Man for All Seasons, to try the case. “Bullets” Blazingham was an ardent supporter of blood sports, and had made it known that she would smile—quelle horreur!—upon the legal return of bear-baiting.

  ‘But, no: instead we got Judge Simeon Bunhugger, a man of green countenance and an environmentally conservative disposition, who had a blind spot for juries, and spent the trial fingering a square black cloth cap that was a relic of his father’s days on the Bench, when the Clerk used to lay it over the Judge’s wig before he pronounced the death sentence.

  ‘Having advised the Court that he was privileged to be Chairman of the Mottled Oryx Society, Mr Justice Bunhugger glared at Counsel and said that he was very much looking forward to imposing the stiffest possible sentence, following a speedily arrived-at verdict of Extremely Guilty. The jury, cowed into submission, did as it was bid, and agreed with the prosecution that I should be held accountable under the Customs and Excise Management Act, or C.E.M.A, which carried a maximum sentence of seven years in gaol, rather than two years under the more lenient Control of Trade in Endangered Species (Enforcement) Regulation, or C.O.T.E.S.

  ‘The clincher in deciding this was the brace of Melamprosops phaeosoma, the world’s rarest bird, in the freezer, which an independent expert called by the prosecution was able to testify was the last pair in existence; with confidence, because they had been ringed.

  ‘Judge Simeon, pleased as punch with the jury’s complaisance, was as good as his word. After making a bad joke about my own head being served on a platter, he addressed me directly to advise that his only regret was that I hadn’t been arrested at my New York premises. Apparently the penalties in the United States were stiffer than at home, because the American authorities were in the habit of ignoring Article Thirty-Six of the Vienna Convention on Consular Relations. Whereupon everyone would have been afforded the satisfaction of a conviction without the trial costing His Majesty’s Government a penny.

  ‘Nonetheless Bunhugger did the best he could, by fining and sentencing me to the full extent of the law; and, as he sent me down, trusted I agreed with him that the diet of oatmeal, and nothing but oatmeal, that he was ordering for me was only appropriate for one “doing porridge” in Wormwood Scrubs.’

  At this point Speaker Snipcock’s, or Bernard Bulstrode’s, head fell forward on his chest and he began snoring loudly. He was the only one asleep. As the members of the ward exchanged glances and shook their heads, from outside the double doors they heard the familiar rattle of a trolley and the squeak of a wheel.

  Chapter Eleven

  An amazing thing happened. A vast whorled complex, like an upended whelk, slowly arose from the bed of the Pacific Ocean. It was of a smooth metallic construction, and an almost blindingly iridescent mother-of-pearl hue. From the spiral tip of this curiously delicate-looking shell, a digital statement was broadcast to the computer banks at Central, to the effect that emissaries of a race known as Blenders had arrived from a star called Lightyear; and that they came in honour and peace to lend assistance in dealing with an imminent peril so grave that it threatened to wipe out the Human Race.

  Had the circumstances not been so dire, the Blenders said, they would never have presumed to trespass upon Earth’s airspace.

  That was the end of the statement.

  Now, while this particular
star, Lightyear, was far beyond the reach of Earth’s space craft, rockets, telescopes, and satellites that sent data back to the mother planet, the nearest and medium-range celestial bodies had held no secrets for decades, dating from Man’s reconnoitring of the Moon and Mars, and analysis of their atmospheres and mineral composition. At first the multitudinous, widely scattered, and very lively denizens of the Milky Way yielded before these incursions, and took whatever measures they needed to avoid them. They rerouted the paths of their interplanetary traffic to avoid Earth’s blundering space platforms and shuttlecraft; satellites active and spent, decommissioned and de-orbited; and the scattered junk and bodily waste of astronauts.

  But gradually the options ran out, as Homo sapiens became ever more sophisticated in its ability to explore beyond its geophysical boundaries, search for life in outer space, and perform its “giant leap for mankind” anti-heroics. The intrusions became more frequent, and first the Lunar and Martian, and then the other indigenous races, with the greatest reluctance and sadness abandoned their homes before they were discovered, and withdrew from their planets and stars; and sought first asylum, then resident alien status, and finally, when it was clear that they would never be able to return, citizenship, amongst neighbouring civilizations who agreed to take them in.

  As soon as it had the technology and skill to do so, Mankind established foreign-based colonies where it pleased, and, having failed to learn a lesson from its ruination of Earth’s climate, set about accomplishing the same on what it deemed to be its newly acquired sovereign territories, and depleting them of their natural resources.

  When reports of increasingly powerful surveillance from Earth became critical, the Blenders’ Ruling Council, fearing ultimate detection of its own undefended star, took the unprecedented step of passing a motion that Lightyear should be surrounded with a protective ring of microwaves. It was the first defensive strategy that it had ever employed, to conceal itself from Mankind’s eavesdropping and intelligence-gathering equipment, which, the moment it found anything suggestive of life, would be sure to be followed by manned spacecraft and robotic explorers.

  Since the Dawn of Creation, the Blenders themselves had no reason to feel vulnerable to invasion or occupation. Lightyear maintained excellent relations with all other nations, reciprocally welcoming their citizens as visitors, and extending them hospitality for as long as they wished to remain. Although it had initially watched Mankind’s evolution from its genesis with pleasure, this had been increasingly replaced with concern and incredulity at its actions and attitudes.

  After studies indicated that the fractured and fractious nature of Earth’s societies and peoples would not be receptive to the frank and friendly overtures that they were disposed to make, the Blenders abandoned the idea of trying to make friends with them. They much regretted this, for they were a sensitive people with by human standards supernormal intelligences, who did not like to think that they might not get along with anyone. Anger, greed, hatred, envy, and pride; crime, bad manners, road rage, offensive architecture, and installation art, did not exist amongst them. They lived in green and fertile riverine ecosystems, and spent their days engaged in reflection, doing calculus, and solving quadratic equations.

  They also indulged the Blender passion for virtual fly-fishing, which involved going after energized trout holograms that had been released into the wild; each simulated fish had a different ratio assigned to it relative to how easy or difficult it was to catch, so that the sport could be enjoyed as much by children as masters of the craft. Every fish brought in was “released”, having registered in its virtual memory the time and place of its capture, and the name of the Blender responsible, information that could be read by the next Blender to reel it in by swiping and scrolling its tail.

  When Central took control of Earth and implemented its repressive regime, the Blenders’ anxiety grew still further, and the Blender Ruling Council decided that it was time to consider some kind of non-violent pre-emptive action. It was clear from the Blenders’ understanding of Human nature that attempts at appeasement would be useless, and likely to lay Lightyear open to even greater danger by giving away where it was, thereby prompting the Central State government to initiate either activation of some powerful electrical or radioactive energy to eliminate it, or a plan to deploy a long-range force capable of overcoming and annexing it.

  Because this was a serious matter that stood to affect every other civilization in the universe, the Blender Ruling Council resolved that it would be prudent to discuss it with the other stellar and planetary orders, to seek their input, and arrive at some agreement as to what should or might be done, were it decided that proactive measures ought to be taken. So a communication was sent out on the emergency channel around the Milky Way, inviting members of each other nation’s ruling council to participate in an international conference, hosted by Lightyear, in order that it might share its findings, and debate the ever-worsening situation on Earth.

  The Blenders immediately discovered that they were not alone in taking an interest in Human activity: every recipient instantly telegraphed acceptance, and expressed a desire that such a forum might be convened without delay, with the assurance that representatives from each council were being appointed and charged with making themselves available at a moment’s notice.

  The First Intergalactic Convention of the Alliance of Planets and Stars, Suns and Moons, Novas and Nebulae, Giants, and Red and White Dwarfs, was held a week later. The smallest and most reclusive nations sent delegates, as, to everyone’s great surprise and trepidation, did the Association of Black Holes.

  The Black Holes were much-feared—not on account of a history of aggression, but because they were not understood—non-entities whom no one had ever spoken with, owing to the difficulty of not knowing where they were until it was too late. In fact, the Black Holes were not even Members of the Alliance, owing to their not having formally subscribed to its precepts and paid dues. But under the circumstances it was feared that the Black Holes, like Bad Fairies, might be incensed at not receiving invitations and being excluded from the Convention, and take revenge by swallowing some of the lesser bodies that they encountered on their movements about the cosmos.

  So messages in bottles were floated into space along unadopted highways, in the hope that at least one of them might enter a Black Hole and be deciphered, and the information circulated amongst, or however it was they communicated with each other, the others in the Black Holes’ own Association.

  The ploy was successful; and as part of the universal policy of zero tolerance of litter and waste, the other bottles were recalled for recycling.

  As the visitors docked at Lightyear, they were received by Blender meet-and-greeters and shown to their quarters, where they might rest and refresh themselves after their journeys. Owing to the star Lightyear’s most distant location from everyone else, these trips had been long, even for the fastest of transporters.

  ‘Prior to settling down to business in the conference hall, everyone circulated informally to renew old acquaintances and address items of lesser importance. Attendees were greatly relieved to find the Black Holers to be amiable. They had a penchant for telling bad jokes, such as ‘What did the Red Dwarf say to the White Dwarf?’, and ‘When is a Nova not a Nova?’…rather, the jokes could only presumed to be bad, for the answers were incomprehensible; but those who had been buttonholed, or blackholed, laughed anyway, having been reassured by the Black Hole emissaries that their presence, or “present absence” as they called it, need not be cause for concern: they had turned off their gravitational forces and spatial vacuums for the duration of the gathering.

  When it was confirmed that everyone who RSVPd that they were coming had signed the register, and was seated at an enormous round table, the official part of the meeting began. The Alliance’s Blender Chairperson welcomed each participant in turn, made some brief introductory comments of a general nature, and mooted that there should be no formal
Agenda, in that there would only be one thing on it: What To Do?.

  This was unanimously agreed. As the meeting proper was about to begin, a Black Hole broke in with an offer to solve the problem once and for all by swallowing Planet Earth, so that they could all take a few days off, sightseeing and enjoying themselves around it before it got digested. He had a personal hankering, he said, to visit the Black Hole of Calcutta, about which there had long been speculation amongst the Holes as to whether it might be a relative of theirs.

  After the assembly was polled, the suggestion was declined from the Chair, with thanks on behalf of everyone, and a minute was made for the record by the Secretary.

  The Blender Chairperson then turned matters over to a group of Blender experts, who outlined Lightyear’s concerns regarding Earth’s corruptive practices, and its conviction that they could not but have deleterious consequences affecting them all, if something were not done soon.

  A further presentation was made regarding the potentially devastating effect upon them all, in the event that no action was taken, were the current situation to be extrapolated according to a series of incrementally exponential formulae projected to the nth degree of worst-case scenario.

  It was quickly agreed amongst the Alliance representatives that an Executive Committee of All Nations should be formed, based on Lightyear, which would be empowered to plan, authorize, and implement a strategy to deal with the problem. The only debate was over whether the manner of achieving this should be peaceable or not; but the Blenders prevailed in arguing that no force should be used. If it were ever to be contemplated, Lightyear on principle would resign its chairmanship of the federation, and take a neutrally consultative role only.

 

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