Review: MASTER AND COMMANDER by Patrick O'Brian

Well, I'm hooked. I'd heard about O'Brian's books for years and never thought they were for me - they sounded like the sort of thing men enjoyed and women sniffed at. But I was wrong. When will I learn?

First of all, I love a good adventure story. I love tales of derring-do. I am an Anglophile. I loved the movie MASTER AND COMMANDER with Russell Crowe and Paul Bettany as O'Brian's peripatetic duo, the very British, Captain Jack Aubrey and the Irishman, Dr. Stephen Maturin. (Probably the movie is the reason why I decided to read the book in the first place.)

So all these ducks in a row, I decided to read the first book in the long-running series, MASTER AND COMMANDER (which, by the way, is a totally different story - except for a couple of elements - than the movie). What's the worst that could happen? I wouldn't like it and I'd move on to something else.

Needless to say, that didn't happen. The book is quite remarkable. I loved it and immediately ordered the next two in the series, POST CAPTAIN and H.M.S. SURPRISE.  (Found two nice used trade paperbacks.)

We're back in the 19th century, Napoleon is hovering over Europe and we're sailing the seven seas looking for adventure and whatever comes our way.

Now I don't know a mizzen topgallant from a flying jib, but that didn't stop my enjoyment of the story. Most of the books come with a diagram of a 19th century sailing ship, so if you really want to, you can figure out what sail is which and spend time deciphering Captain's orders and the sailor's jargon. Half the time when action was under way with  incomprehensible orders flying about, it didn't really seem to matter whether I understood the lingo or not. I just used my imagination.

Patrick O'Brian (born Richard Patrick Russ) was an incredibly gifted writer, superb not only in the action sequences, but more importantly in quieter times when the day to day travails of 19th century seamanship are revealed. He is particularly good at establishing the friendship of Aubrey and Maturin, two very different men. Maturin knowing little of sailing life and Aubrey devoted to that very life - his main desire: being made Post Captain which is a higher level of command than Master and Commander. (Though Master and Commander sounds much more impressive to me.

In his forward to the book, Patrick O'Brian comments: When one is writing about the Royal Navy of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries it is difficult to avoid understatement; it is difficult to do full justice to one's subject; for so very often the improbable reality outruns fiction.

War with Spain and France was on-going and any Spanish or French ship on the horizon was potential for capturing a prize and enriching the Captain's pocket, not to mention the common seamen on board. This was ship to ship battle, man to man, eyeball to eyeball, musket to musket, pick-ax to sword. It was all about cunning and valor, brilliance and stupidity, and very often institutionalized cruelty. But at the root of it all, honor among honorable men saved the day, not to mention, accompanying good manners and a definite sang froid which I am convinced, only men can achieve.

In this first book we are aboard His Majesty's sloop Sophie, recently (and unexpectedly) given over to Captain's Aubrey's command. Though it's not a huge 36 gun frigate, it will do quite nicely enough and Captain Jack soon racks up several prizes and earns the nickname, "Lucky Jack" Aubrey.

Still, that doesn't protect him from his enemies on land, especially one Captain Harte whose wife just happens to be Jack's mistress. Oh well, all is fair and love and war and the funny thing is no one thinks any the less of Aubrey for taking up with a married woman, though the woman isn't looked at with the same equanimity.

While on board ship the friendship between Aubrey and Maturin deepens as the good doctor must learn to accommodate himself to the harsh shipboard realities, a reality which the sailors (many of them 'pressed' men, several Africans among them) seem to take in their stride -  floggings to deter all manner of bad behavior including drunkenness which wasn't helped much by the daily measure of rum handed out to every man.

I did enjoy learning about the subtleties of leadership, i.e. what makes a good captain, what ill-bred, ill-used, uneducated men will and won't respect and just how chancy were the lives of 19th century sailors and their leaders. Also discovered that a man could be hung for buggering a goat. Chancy, indeed.

Learning that many ships never even carried a doctor on board was mind-boggling. Not that 'doctoring' was any great shakes at this point in history, what with 'bleedings' still regularly carried out as a 'preventitive' or cure-all. Though Dr. Maturin does have enough skill to operate on a man with an ugly head wound and bring back a boy thought dead by drowning.

But on the whole, life on the high seas then was all very hit or miss - the only thing holding everything together, I'm convinced, was strict adherence to naval law and the common goal of defeating Napoleon.

England did expect every man to do his duty and most of them did.

A fabulous book.

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Happy Easter Everyone.

Spring by Swedish painter, Carl Larsson.

No Saturday Salon today, but we'll be back at our regularly scheduled spot next week. In the meantime, I hope we may all have a happy and festive Easter with family and friends keeping in mind the reason why we celebrate the day.

Easter Greetings by Russian painter Boris Kustodiev

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Friday's Forgotten Book: DARKNESS AT PEMBERLEY (1932) by T.H. White

Friday's Forgotten Books is a weekly meme hosted by Patti Abbott at her blog, Pattinase. Don't forget to check over there and see what other forgotten books other bloggers will be talking about today. Link.


DARKNESS AT PEMBERLEY also qualifies as an entry in Bev's Vintage Mystery Reading Challenge. Link.


I sound nice and calm so far, don't I?


This is what happened to me with this book, I was thrilled, THRILLED I tell you, to find out that it is now, officially, one of my all time favorite books EVER! Okay, I promised myself I'd stay calm and not hyperventilate, but it's proving difficult. I am still capable of utter and complete delight when I find a book that 'wows' me, wins me over completely - my pulse begins to race, I smile and shake my head in wonderment. "It's happened again!"

But first things first, I must thank Sergio over at TIPPING MY FEDORA for his wonderful review which introduced me to T.H.White's one and only mystery. Link.

Needless to say, I had never heard of this book. I knew White as the author of THE ONCE AND FUTURE KING and other Arthurian books and such, but never even suspected he'd written a good old rip-roaring mystery - one that I'd love and hate to see end. (I even slowed down my reading to make the story last longer.) Yeah, I was hooked good and proper.

White's book caught me off guard. It begins like many mysteries of that period with the discovery of a body - a Cambridge professor found in a locked room (yes, one of those) - but then that's followed very quickly by the twin discovery of  two other bodies - that of a student and a bit later, a school laborer named Rudd. Are the three murders connected? You bet.

Okay so we're off and running. But here's the switch: early on we know who the killer is. Inspector Buller of Scotland Yard is on the case from the beginning and he soon figures out who's responsible for three murders. But here's the quandary: there's no evidence. (This is 1932, forensics aren't what they are today.) The case has no future, Buller's superiors surmise that the professor killed the student (who knows why?) and then killed himself. Case closed.


But who slit Rudd's throat?


Frustrated by his inability to bring the crimes home to the actual killer and feeling guilty because he didn't save the third victim, Buller quits the force. He even goes so far as to contemplate murder himself in order to stop a madman whom Buller is convinced will kill again. Is there ever any justification for taking the law into your own hands? Especially for an ex-policeman? Questions Buller ponders and his conclusion may not be yours but it sure as heck was mine.

This all occurs after he's confronted the killer and told him what he suspects and the killer has admitted that yes indeed, he committed the heinous crimes and isn't it too bad that there's nothing Buller can do about it.

Next, a dispirited and despondent Buller goes to stay at an estate owned by friends of his. A brother and sister who are basically recluses in the neighborhood despite their wealth. The brother has served time in prison for a crime he didn't commit but for which everyone (except Buller and a few others) believes him guilty.


But wait a minute, you're thinking, where does this Pemberley business come in? 

Well, the estate is THE Pemberley of Austen's book, the brother is named Charles Darcy and his sister is Elizabeth - a family name handed down. That's the only link with anything Austen-wise and in fact there is no mention of it at all except that we're made to understand that the current Darcy brother and sister are descendants.

The brother rarely leaves Pemberley because of the ill-will directed at him by townspeople and residents of the area and he is chafing at the bit to do something, anything to take his mind off his troubles. When Buller shows up with his story of a killer whom no one can touch and who has already killed at least three people - Darcy goes off half-cocked (without telling Buller) to Cambridge to kill the killer. Actually what he does is have a confrontation with him but when he leaves the murderer is very much alive.

Though this is 1932, this episode in the story has a not unpleasant Victorian feel to it, but what the heck. The important thing is that Darcy needs to bring himself to the killer's attention so that the rest of the story can take place. It's as good a way as any.

Back at Pemberley, a dismayed Buller tells Charles that his life is now in danger. But Darcy, brother and sister, scoff at this. The fact that the killer has already done away with three people doesn't seem to impress them very much. They believe Buller is letting his imagination run away with him.

Even Elizabeth (whom Buller is secretly in love with) thinks Buller is exaggerating the danger. That is until the first and second attempts on Charles' life. It soon becomes obvious that the murderous villain is hiding somewhere on the estate, mysteriously managing to elude the Darcy's, Buller and the servants all loyal to Charles and his sister.

Just for the wicked fun of it, the killer begins toying with his prey. There's lots of bump in the night, strange noises and shadows and other spooky mischief. Pembereley and its inhabitants are under siege. They can't turn to the police for help because they would not be believed - I wonder that Buller didn't have a friend on the force whom he could turn to, but apparently he didn't. They do however have a doctor friend who arrives to join in the hide and seek which takes up about three quarters of the book. The action is mostly centered at Pemberley itself as the killer has obviously found a way to maneuver in the dark, moving about the house like a spectre in the night.

White's writing of all this very much of the Wilkie Collins school with a dose of Christie and a touch of Dickson Carr (in the locked room part - the mystery of which is solved early on) but written at a much quicker pace. We know who the killer is but where the heck is he? How is he managing to elude his pursuers while never, apparently, leaving the house? The mystery deepens when another brutal murder occurs.

Those of you who think of Pemberely as hallowed ground will, no doubt, be shocked by all this. But all I can say is: get over it.

DARKNESS AT PEMBERLEY is eerie, mysterious, fast-paced fun. I actually had to stop reading and take tension breaks during the heart of the action - it's THAT thrilling I loved it! Oh and of course near the end, Buller has to take on the killer single-handedly while Charles and Elizabeth's lives hang in the balance. It is to be expected, but it still works when done this well.

My only minor quibble is that the end when it comes seems a bit too hasty, but other than that, the book is pretty near perfect.

If you haven't read this, drop whatever you're doing and get your hands on a copy of DARKNESS AT PEMBERLEY.  Make sure nothing urgent is going on in your life at the moment though, because once you sit down to read this, you will be mesmerized. I was. And I don't mesmerize easily.

I'm going to have to finagle my 100 Favorite Mysteries List which I am working on as we speak, because T.H. White's book has definitely made the cut.

If this was going to be White's one and only mystery, it's just as well it was a doozy.

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A Bit of Agatha Christie On A Beautiful Sunny Day in April.

One of many reasons why I adore Dame Agatha's writing:

(The following is an interlude between dead bodies at the English Country estate of Lord Caterham where a body with a bullet in it has just been discovered by a maid. The police are on the scene, Lord Caterham plans on leaving all the details in their hands as well as in those of George Lomax (known as Codders), a government toady who is on his way over from a neighboring estate. The dead man was an important and very hush-hush dignitary.)

"Well," said Lord Caterham, eager to escape, "I'll leave you here, Inspector. You'll be able to find me if you - er - want me. But Mr. George Lomax is coming over from Wyvern Abbey shortly, and he'll be able to tell you far more than I could. It's his business really. I can't explain, but he will when he comes."


Lord Caterham beat a precipitate retreat without waiting for a reply. "Too bad for Lomax," he complained. "Letting me in for this. What's the matter, Tredwell?"


The white-haired butler was hovering deferentially at his elbow. "I have taken the liberty, my lord, of advancing the breakfast hour as far as you are concerned. Everything is ready in the dining room."


"I don't suppose for a minute I can eat anything," said Lord Caterham gloomily, turning his footsteps in that direction. "Not for a moment."


Bundle [Caterham's daughter] slipped her hand through his arm, and they entered the dining room together. On the sideboard were half a score of heavy silver dishes, ingeniously kept hot by patent arrangements.


"Omelet," said Lord Caterham, lifting each lid in turn. "Eggs and bacon, kidneys, deviled bird, haddock, cold ham, cold pheasant. I don't like any of these things, Tredwell. Ask the cook to pouch me an egg, will you?"


"Very good, my lord."


Tredwell withdrew. Lord Caterham, in an absent-minded fashion, helped himself plentifully to kidneys and bacon, poured himself out a cup of coffee, and sat down at the long table. Bundle was already busy with a plateful of eggs and bacon.


"I'm damned hungry," said Bundle with her mouth full. "It must be the excitement."


"It's all very well for you," complained her father. "You young people like excitement. But I'm in a very delicate state of health. Avoid all worry, that's what Sir Abner Willis said - avoid all worry. So easy for a man sitting his consulting room in Harley Street to say that. How can I avoid worry when that ass Lomax lands me with a thing like this?..."


With a sad shake of the head, Lord Caterham rose and carved himself a plate of ham.


"Codders has certainly done it this time," observed Bundle cheerfully. "He was almost incoherent over the telephone. He'll be here in a minute or two spluttering nineteen to the dozen about discretion and hushing it up."


Lord Caterham groaned at the prospect. "Was he up?" he asked.


"He told me," replied Bundle, "that he had been up and dictating letters and memoranda ever since seven o'clock."


"Proud of it, too," remarked her father. "Extraordinarily selfish, these public men. They make their wretched secretaries get up at the most unearthly hours in order to dictate rubbish to them. If a law was passed compelling them to stop in bed until eleven, what a benefit it would be to the nation! I wouldn't mind so much if they didn't talk such balderdash. Lomax is always talking to me of my 'position.' As if I had any. Who wants to be a peer nowadays?"


"Nobody," said Bundle. "They'd much rather keep a prosperous public house."


Tredwell reappeared silently with two poached eggs in a little silver dish which he placed on the table in front of Lord Caterham. "What's that, Tredwell?" said the latter, looking at them with faint distaste.


"Poached eggs, my lord."


"I hate poached eggs," said Lord Caterham peevishly. "They're so insipid. I don't like to look at them even. Take them away, will you Tredwell?"


"Very good, my lord." Tredwell and the poached eggs withdrew as silently as they had come.


The book was published in 1925, only Christie's sixth mystery. But I don't even mind the adverbs. I am in love with Lord Caterham. He is one of the few men in literature that I would willingly marry. Ha!


I've lost track of how many times I've read THE SECRET OF CHIMNEYS, but I suspect I'm not done yet.

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Quote/Unquote

Photo by Skye Fillmore.

"A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other." 

Charles Dickens
A favorite quote of mine and thanks to Marylinn Kelly  for jiggling my memory.

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Tuesday's Overlooked (or Forgotten) Movie: THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER starring Sean Connery and Alec Baldwin

Tuesday is Overlooked (or Forgotten) movie day, a weekly meme hosted by Todd Mason at his blog, SWEET FREEDOM. So don't forget to check in at Todd's to see what other movies other bloggers are posting about today. Link.

I guess I'm cheating a little, since THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER based on Tom Clancy's novel and directed by John McTiernan, can't really be termed a forgotten or overlooked film. Except I've met a lot of people who haven't seen it or if they have, don't recall. (How that's possible I just don't know.)

This is the sort of movie that when it turns up on TV, you stop what you're doing (even if you've seen it many times before), sit down and glue your eyes to the screen. There are movies which have this magical effect on us, RED OCTOBER is one of them. At least in my universe.

Admittedly I've loved this movie for years and couldn't believe it recently when someone in my own family told me they'd never seen it.

Gasp.

Anyway, here I am on this beautiful Spring morning, ready to refresh your memories, collective or otherwise.

I really do hate the idea that supposedly there are movies for men and movies for women.. For me there are only good movies or bad. It's a fairly simple concept but one that works for me. If I like it, it's an Yvette movie, if I don't like it, it's not an Yvette movie.

THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER is an Yvette movie. No ambiguity, I love it. There's no boy/girl. No romance -  except for the 'romance' of the open sea, or undersea as the case may be. But there are rugged men in uniform, crowded together in tight life threatening situations, dependent on each other's intelligence, strength of purpose, honor and good will. Works for me.

The fact that most of the men are reasonably attractive doesn't hurt either.

Add to that a heck of a good story fibrillating with tension and suspense and Sean Connery speaking Russian (with a slightly Scottish burr), and what more could you ask for? Not much,

The Plot:

THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER is set in the not so long ago days of the Cold War - when the Soviet Union and the United States routinely played 'chicken' on the high seas, the arms race was in high gear, each nation trying to one up the other - nuclear weapons-wise - all in the name of world peace. (Actually, it worked quite well since neither of us wound up destroying each other as so many sci-fi writers had predicted)

This is a multi-layered, mano-a-mano confrontation movie with all the subtlety of a hammer and tong. It's difficult to encapsulate the entire plot in just a few paragraphs, you know how Tom Clancy is - almost as wordy as me. Suffice to say there's lots of underwater sub-stuff going on, so don't blink or you might miss the next twist..

Anyway back to the story: lo and behold, to the dismay of the United States in the form of Jack Ryan (Alec Baldwin) researcher and analyst, the Russians appear to have created some new system that will allow a nuclear submarine to travel wherever it wants, whenever it wants - as silently as death. In other words, completely undetectable by radar. - no resonance, no trace, no engine sound, no nothing. This newly hatched sub could travel right up the coast of North America and unload its weapons under a cloak of technical invisibility..

Fortunately, this new submarine, the Red October has been placed in the hands of Captain Marko Ramius (Sean Connery in white hairpiece and spiffy beard). Ramius is a patriot, a man of honor, a hero,  but also a pragmatist who understands only too well what this new technology means, what his sub is capable of. Apparently he is also a man, the movie soon reveals, who wants none of it.

He and several of the top officers on the sub - men who have been brought up in the ranks, taught and influenced by Ramius, have hatched a plot to deliver the Red October into the hands of the Americans. They plan to defect with the submarine as their calling card. It is a grandiose plan but one worthy of Ramius's personality.

I'm not telling you anything you won't find out within the first half hour or so of the film. The tension and suspense build despite our knowing what's going on because the Americans (except for Jack Ryan who suspects early on) have no clue what Ramius is up to..

It's handy that Jack Ryan has read all of Captain Raimus books and has met him once at a government function years before. Ryan - in brainpower equally as brilliant as Ramius - seems to understand what might make the submarine commander tick. Obviously this is a very important thing to know since Raimus has hatched a  complex plan of subterfuge on board his own ship -  the crew is unaware that their Captain and officers are plotting to defect.

You do wonder how the men on board will be dealt with and when the thing unfolds you just shake your head with admiration. The crew are tricked into abandoning ship and left with the impression that Ramius and his officers are heroes worthy of the Lenin Cross. Incredible. Raimus has thought of everything. Almost.

But I'm getting ahead of myself again.

We learn that there is a spy on board the Soviet sub. Though the political officer is dealt with early on (every Soviet sub goes on a mission with a political officer in tow) in a particularly brutal way, the identity of the spy is unknown. Several of the officers soon become unrattled as events appear to spiral out of control, but Ramius is the calm center of the approaching storm. A man of iron will who expects instant obedience if not instant confidence. But he understands completely that if his men detect weakness or confusion in him, all is lost.

In the meantime, an American nuclear sub - captained by Bart Mancuso (Scott Glenn), a laconic, straight-forward type - is on maneuvers on the ocean floor when their sonar detects some anomalies. One of the crew, Seaman Jones (Courtney Vance) has momentarily picked up the resonance of what he believes is another sub in the vicinity. But within seconds of his instruments having picked up the scent, the resonance disappears and the Red October passes by unnoticed. But thereafter, Seaman Jones keeps a careful eye on his instruments and Captain Mancuso files a report.

Let's back up a little, Jack Ryan has come across certain photos in his research - photos which he believes reveal that the Soviets have taken a giant step forward in the arms race. He flies to Washington to discuss his suspicions with the skeptical Pentagon brass. A submarine that leaves no trail, no wake, is a hard concept for them to swallow. But Ryan has had the photos checked by one of his expert friends and his suspicions have been confirmed.

James Earl Jones

He manages to convince the brass, helped along by another friend, Admiral Greer (James Earl Jones), a Pentagon mucky-muck who instructs Ryan to take the lead in the investigation since there is no time to lose. Especially once Ryan finds out that an American sub might have recently bypassed the Red October on its journey. (Mancuso's report.) But just what is that journey? Far as the Americans are concerned, the sub is on its way to start WWIII.

However, Captain Ramius had previously sent a letter to a high-placed Soviet official stating his intentions (without the knowledge of his officers) - a kind of declaration of emancipation - proving, I suppose, that he's not a sneak, at least in his own mind.  Of course, the entire Soviet navy is immediately put on alert and Soviet subs join the hunt for Red October. The sub's new technology cannot be allowed to fall into American hands.

Joss Ackland

Soviet Ambassador Andrei Lysenko (the wonderful Joss Ackland) is given some cock and bull story to deliver to his American counterpart, Jeffrey Pelt, played sleazily and cunningly by the fabulous Richard Jordan. Lysenko regretfully tells Pelt that a Soviet submarine is missing -  apparently the captain has had a mental break down. The implication is clear - the Red October is headed for the American coast under the command of a crazed lunatic.

The U.S. offers to help the Soviets in their search. At first the Soviets refuse, but then are forced to accept when it becomes clear that Ramius has out-maneuvered them.

At the same time, Jack Ryan believes that Ramius might actually be defecting - that would account for much of what has happened. (Ryan is an 'outside the box' thinker.) What if Ramius - a Lithuanian by birth -  has decided to deliver this new technology to the Americans? The playing field would be level once again.

It's up to Ryan (who is multi-lingual) to convince the higher-ups to allow him to try and get in contact with Captain Ramius in whatever way possible.

To that end he is flown out to the middle of the ocean by helicopter (from a nearby war ship) to rendezvous with the American submarine with Captain Mancuso (Scott Glenn) at the helm.  This makes for a very exciting sequence as Ryan is dangled by the chopper over the sub in the middle of gale winds and rain.

Unfortunately, Captain Mancuso has just been radioed orders to seek and destroy the Red October.

Turns out that this helicopter incident is not in the book at all. I haven't read any Clancy, but I did learn that in the book Ryan and the submarine captains never meet. I suppose they communicate by radio and whatnot. But I think it makes more sense to have it happen as it does in the film.

Anyway, once Ryan is on board, things really heat up as the two subs meet within killing distance (Ramius has deactivated the new propulsion system). Psychology definitely comes into play, a hunch is played out, then another. Remember the old adage 'luck is the residue of chance'? Well, it comes into play here.

That's Sam Neil as Ramius's second in command.

There is a wonderful confrontation, sub to sub, captain to captain, Ryan to Ramius - then gunshots on board the Soviet sub. Oh and almost forgot, while all this is going on, there's a Soviet sub commandeered by Captain Viktor Topolev (Stellan Skarsgard) bearing down on the Red October with orders to blow it out of the water. As the missiles engage, you do wonder - what on earth can happen next?

You'll have to see the movie to find out. But I can almost guarantee you'll want to.

Another intriguing thing about THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER, is how the language thing is worked out. There is some Russian spoken (with English subtitles) but then Ramius and his crew and other Soviets we see during the film, continue their conversations in English. We are meant to know that they are REALLY speaking Russian, but we can understand them. A nice trick.

In case I didn't make it clear, I love this movie, so don't miss it.


And no, Alec Baldwin is not nearly as annoying as he's proven to be in some of his other movies. (Though he is tailor-made for 30 Rock and all but steals that show.)

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Flash Fiction Challenge

source

Today, something a little different. Patti Abbott at her blog, PATTINASE issued a writing challenge a few weeks ago and I signed up.The idea was a short story (around 1500 words) having something, anything to do with a zoo. At first it was the setting, but then it sort of evolved.

I hope you'll enjoy my post (it's just a bit of nonsense) and when you're finished, you'll check in at Patti's and read her story and pick up the links to other participating bloggers. What would life be without a challenge here and there? Not as much fun, that's for sure.

*******************************

Down to the Zoo and Back Again

I turned aside from the intense focus of the one glaring blue eye. Smith’s voice, a low, raspy metallic whisper defied anyone to interrupt him even when expecting an answer in reply – you never knew whether to speak or pretend you were invisible. (There were a couple in the group who were – lucky for them – truly invisible and so escaped the wrath of Smith, one eye blazing like a petulant Cyclops.) I don’t know what he expected from those of us operating on no sleep, no food and no chlorophyll.

Smith fixed the crick in his long neck, making a loud snapping noise. I mumbled something.

“What? WHAT? I didn’t hear that. No, wait. Something tells me I need to sit down for this.” He grabbed a metal stool from beneath one of the lab desks and pulled it over, a tentacle making that slithery hissing noise that never failed to unnerve me no matter how many times I’d seen or heard it slide out from beneath Smith’s long plaid woolen coat. (Plaid was Smith’s passion.)

“As you can see, I’m now sitting.” Smith sat, balanced precariously. (He was rather pear shaped with only three long appendages, two purple, one green.) “Tell me again how you managed to foul up the simplest of inter-world exercises. How you managed, somehow, even with the expensive education your guardians have paid for and believe me this will be on their monthly bill – have no doubt –  pray tell me how you managed to screw it all up!. Do you know how much a go-back-and-retrieve operation will cost? We are NOT MEANT TO INTERFERE in any way! ” His voice climbed so high the two antennae on my forehead drooped and fell asleep. They did that a lot whenever Smith was in a mood.

I mumbled again.

“What? Speak coherently!”

“We left him at the zoo,” I said, clearing my throat. “ In the reptile house. We had no choice.”

Smith’s eye swiveled around the room. “Oh well, that makes all the difference – why didn’t you say so to begin with? So, at this point in actual time, Colonel Zyph, disguised as a lizard, is playing hide and seek with a bunch of frogs and turtles?  Well now – “ Smith did his best to shrug which was kind of difficult because he had no shoulders to speak of – “ I can see how that could happen. Yes.”

“Really?” I said hopefully.

“Ah, the gullibility of youth…” Smith shook his head.

I stretched to my full height. I could make 3 feet, if I really pushed it. “ It wasn’t my idea to visit the zoo, sir. Technically, the Colonel was in charge.”

"Ah, I was only following orders. The standard excuse for simpletons since time immemorial." He waved a purple tentacle around. "Repeat after me, everyone, all together now, I VAS ONLY FOLLOWING ORDERS!”

When no one in the room said anything, he screamed, “I can’t hear YOU!” and fell backwards off the stool. His blinking blue eye glared wildly at us, defied us to rush to his aid. Only the two (or maybe three) invisibles dared giggle.

“Ernie!!!” Smith howled. A tall, stringy fellow with spotted skin and spiky yellow hair  scrambled in from the next room and after much tsk, tsk, tsking, helped Smith back up to his sitting position. None of us were allowed to touch Smith, he disliked the feel of  pinchers. With a rancid glare in our general direction, Ernie escaped back into his lab.

“Tell me again about this zoo." Smith puckered his lips with distaste." Particulars please, the computer awaits. Zoo. I don't like the word. It has such an inelegant sound. English is so tiresome."

“I think the full term is Zoological Park,” I said. “It’s where earthers store their animal life. None left in the wild these days.”

“What?”

“The Zoo, sir. You said…”

“I know what I said. Do you take me for a simpleton? I know what a zoo is. I also know the root of the word and more. Don’t you know by now that I know everything? I was merely musing…”

“Yessir.”

“Revelations, please.”

“The Colonel said he wanted to take a look. That’s all. He, well, you know what shape-shifters are, when he saw the lizard, honestly sir, she had the most beautiful red and black stripes…” my voice trailed off.

Smith cleared his throat loudly.

“Yessir, sorry sir. I was just musing.” 

Smith glared. 

“The Colonel was instantly smitten. Before we could stop him, he’d effected a rearrangement, jumped in the tank and was whispering sweet nothings into the ears of what turned out to be, on closer inspection – “ I glanced down at my e-band, “…a Oustalet’s Chameleon, native of Madagascar.”

“Zyph is such a raging romantic,” said Smith.

“We though we’d let true love run its course and we could go back and retrieve him in a few minutes.”

"Do you know what I’m doing now, Merrivale?”

“No sir.”

“I am doing a remarkable imitation of someone trying to stay calm. Trying to take into account your callow youth and inexperience. “

“It was the Colonel, sir. The Colonel was beguiled. He – I couldn’t stop him.”

Smith made such a dreadful face that even the monkey, Linus, looked near to fainting.

“What is wrong with that creature?”

“You’re frightening him, sir.”

Smith looked uneasy for the first and only time that morning. He loved monkeys.

He made an attempt to look less threatening. “And the portal?"

“It worked a treat, just as you thought it would.” I smiled. After all, the portal was Smith’s life’s work. “Everything was going fine. Since we were always ten minutes ahead of the earthers, they couldn’t focus on us. We moved among them easily, picked up plenty of samples - hair, sweat, a fingernail or two. A kitten.”

Smith looked horrified.

“No, well, for whatever reason the portal wouldn’t take the kitten. We had to put it back.”

Smith breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, good, that much is very good.” He attempted a sort of encouraging smile no less frightening than his scowl.

“But then,” I said,” the Colonel saw the zoo gates and wanted to investigate.”

“He would.” Smith rolled his eye.

“He said something about freeing all the poor oppressed creatures within. You know how he talks. But then, in the reptile house, he spotted the chameleon and began to vibrate and the rest you know.”

“Say no more.” Smith grimaced and closed his eye. He rolled his head side to side and again had to snap his neck. The one tentacle he used for balance gripped the edge of the table and he fought to keep from falling over again. He looked up at the ceiling as if pondering a great problem, which he probably was. Disregarding his awful clumsiness and lack of manners, Smith was purebred, undiluted genius.

“We couldn’t stop him, sir. He, well, you know how the Colonel loves music. The zoo was playing Brahms over the sound system. He was overcome, sir. There was nothing we could do.”

“You do realize we have no choice but to go back for him” said Smith, taking a deep breath.

“I’m volunteering, sir. We all are.” I heard some protesting squeaks from the back of the room, but ignored them.

“Much good that will do. “ Smith managed a half shrug. ‘’You look done in, Merrivale” he said, looking down at me with that great blue eye, his neck extended. “Go get something to eat, the kitchen has a fresh supply of moss, get a chlorophyll shot, comb those ridges on your head, do something to make yourself presentable. Come back in a couple of hours. You and these other idiots here will have to dare the portal again. Take a couple of extra invisibles. The portal wasn’t meant to be used back to back – it seems to resent that -  but we don’t have any choice.”

“You would have been proud, sir. Once the portal sensed danger, it was suddenly right there and waiting. We all went through, but the Colonel wouldn’t leave his friend and the portal didn’t recognize his new shape. We shouted for him to change back but he ignored us. Honestly Mr. Smith, I don’t think he could hear, he was all peculiar and turning colors. Do you think the Colonel will be safe until we can get back?”

“How the hell should I know? Probably not. Don’t female chameleons eat the male after mating?”

I know I looked horrified, but he said quickly, “That was a joke, Merrivale. We’ll get him back, not to worry.”

“Does that mean you’re thinking of going, sir?” I tried to keep dismay out of my voice.

“Oh dear boy, I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” said Smith.

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