Australia Day - A Mixed Bag

It is Australia Day.

Team Philosophe and Team Condor are having a consolation picnic, in Elder Park.

They sit on the grass near a stage which is being set up for a concert.

The sky is cloudy. There are swans on the river.

Belle et Bonne: Here papa, have a tuna sandwich.

Vello ( taking a tuna sandwich ): Thank you, my dear.

Belle et Bonne: What about you, Terence?

Terence doesn't reply.

Sweezus: Come on, Terence. Try something. At least have a Popper.

Richard Dawkins. He's sulking. That's what.

David: And why might that be? Could it be to do with your frank explanation of atheism?

Sweezus: No. It's actually my fault.

Terence: It IS! It's his fault. He said Oppy the Kangaroo wasn't true.

Sweezus: Real. I said he wasn't a real kangaroo. Just someone in a costume.

Belle et Bonne: But Terence, that's true.

Richard Dawkins: This is what comes of believing in fairy tales.

Gaius: Speaking of which, did you find the twins' parents?

Richard Dawkins: I did. I told them their daughters were too intelligent to be allowed to be turned into Catholics.

Surfing-With-Whales: Shit a brick! What did they say?

Richard Dawkins: They had no idea what I was talking about.

Arthur: And did you explain?

Richard Dawkins: Well yes, and it turned out the girls had been lying. Which was most satisfactory. Then they asked for my autograph, and wished me good luck in the race.

Vello: By which time you'd missed it.

Richard Dawkins: Yes, that was a pity.

Terence: Ha ha. That's what comes of believing in fairy tales.

Belle et Bonne: Oh, that's very good Terence. But I think it's time to move on. Pablo, will you have a tuna sandwich?

Pablo Neruda: Thank you, beautiful lady.

Belle et Bonne: You're very welcome.

Pablo Neruda: Full woman, fleshly apple, hot moon...

Belle et Bonne: Goodness!

Pablo Neruda: ....thick smell of seaweed, crushed mud and light.

Belle et Bonne: It's just a tuna sandwich.

Pablo Neruda: What obscure brilliance opens between your columns? what ancient night ...

Vello: I assume that is one of your poems and not a crude suggestion.

David: Yes, best if we all assume that.

Belle et Bonne: Well I quite like it. Pablo dear, could I interest you in a Popper?

A voice from the stage trills: Australians all let us rejoice ...thunk!

Just a sound check.

A voice from the river path calls out: David! Yoohoo! David!

David (groaning): Oh no! It's mother! Blaxland, here I come.......

Stage Six: King William Road - Shocks

Crowds are gathering for Stage Six of the Tour Down Under.

It's Family Day. There are face painters and airbrush tattoos.

Balloonists, a jumping castle, artists.

A BUPA mini Tour for children aged six to twelve.

Arthur and Pablo are talking to Emma and Irma.

Emma: That sucked yesterday.

Arthur: Richie winning?

Emma: No, that was cool!

Irma: It sucked there was no prize for eleven year olds. You lied, Arthur.

Arthur: Just as well. You're not eleven.

Pablo: How old are you really?

Irma: Thirteen.

Pablo: You lied to Richard Dawkins. Ha ha!

Emma: And we said we were Catholic

Irma: No we didn't. We said we went to Catholic school.

Pablo: That's very good. Wait a minute! Were you lying?

Irma: Well, we go intermittently.

Emma: Alternatingly.

Irma: It's a twin thing.

Arthur: But you don't look alike. How do you do the twin thing?

Pablo: These girls. I think they lie about everything.

Emma: Not everything. Look we've both got tattoos.

Pablo: Let's see.

Emma: See. It says ARTHER.

Arthur: Yours is spelled wrong.

Emma: So is hers.

The girls run off laughing to the Dirty Girl Kitchen where you can make your own breakfast.

Vello and David appear, with cups of coffee.

Vello: Hello boys. How's Sweezus this morning? Disappointed?

David: Another Tour when he didn't get King of the Mountain.

Pablo: Sweezus is fine. He's with Terence over there. He's showing him Oppy the Kangaroo.

Richard Dawkins rolls up on his Oxford bicycle, with Gaius.

Richard Dawkins: Where did those girls go? I want to speak to their parents.

Arthur: They're in the Dirty Girl Kitchen.

Richard rolls off in the direction of the Dirty Girl Kitchen.

Gaius: Everyone ready for the final race this afternoon? I must admit I'll be glad when it's over. I have things to catch up on. There's been a frilled shark caught in Eastern Victoria....

David: Me too.

Vello: You too what?

David: I'll be glad when it's over. I need to lie low for a while.

Vello: Katherine?

David: Coming home. Yes. And I fear that she is going to invite me to Blaxland to visit the children.

Vello: She is. I heard it from Belle et Bonne, who heard it from Margaret.

Gaius: Jumping Jupiter! Margaret? Back already?

Golly.

Team Philosophe may not recover from these shocks dealt to two of its members.

Not to mention that Richard Dawkins has been sidetracked by tattooed faux-Catholics.

And time ticks on. Soon it will be lunch time.

Stage Five: McLaren Vale to Willunga Hill - Spoilt Competition

McLaren Vale, a fine morning, before the race.

Richard Dawkins: There are those girls again. Call them over.

Vello: Steady on!

Gaius: It's Emma and Irma! Emma! Irma! Halloah!

Irma: Oh, hi Gaius! We were just talking to Arthur and Pablo.

Vello: We saw.

Richard Dawkins: I hear you girls are eleven.

Emma: Yeah right. Whatever.

Irma: Shut UP! Yes, eleven.

Richard Dawkins. Then I should very much value your opinion.

Irma: On the entries for the sleep competition?

Richard Dawkins: How did you know?

Irma: Arthur told us. There's a reward.

Richard Dawkins: Not for the eleven year olds. For the clever scientist who wins the competition.

Emma: Or the poet.

Irma: Anyway we think it's stupid. Like who doesn't know what sleep is?

Emma: That's right.

Vello: Is that so girls? How about telling us what you know already. In the interests of fairness.

David: Absolutely. Fairness.

Richard Dawkins: All right, girls. What do you know?

Irma: Sleep is a naturally recurring state of altered consciousness.

Emma: And inhibited sensory activity.

Richard Dawkins: Where did you learn that?

Irma: We did it last year in science.

Richard Dawkins: Well done, girls. You've spoiled the competition

Irma: Yeah, well, we go to this Catholic school. Mum and dad reckon it's the best one.

Richard Dawkins: Catholic! Are you girls Catholic?

Emma: Not really. We're atheists, actually.

Vello: At a Catholic school! What a hoot. Don't they teach you religion?

Emma: Yeah, they do, but the PE teacher doesn't........

Irma: Yeah he's so rad........ Hey! you guys need to get to the start line. Look, Gaius is there already.

Vello: So he is. Come on lads, let's go!

........

In the middle.

The wind gets up as they ride through Aldinga.

The sea fizzes at they sprint though Snapper Point.

......

Willunga Hill, almost at the finish.

Cadel Evans, Rohan Dennis, Richie Porte.

Richie Porte makes a move.

And wins by the simple expedient of pedaling faster.

He also gets King of the Mountain.

......

After the race.

Pablo (looking round): There they are!

Arthur: Emma and Irma?

Surfing-With-Whales: Hey you girls!

Sweezus: No way. They're not coming. Now they're all over Richie.

Stage Four: Glenelg to Mount Barker - Deflation And Cunning

A beautiful morning in Jetty Road Glenelg for the start of the BUPA Stage Four.

A sea breeze is wafting. Seagulls wheel overhead. Children ring bicycle bells and toot horns. Old people grumble at the impediments to normality. Pablo is ogling girls.

Cut it out Pablo, says Sweezus. We get serious today. Remember our race plan?

Pablo nods seriously although he doesn't remember the race plan.

Arthur might know.

Two of the girls Pablo has been ogling run over.

They look rather young.

Arthur! Arthur! cry the girls, who are twin-like.

Irma and Emma! says Arthur. Was that you calling out to me yesterday?

Yes, says Irma. It was us. We're on holiday.

Richard Dawkins, who has placed himself behind Pablo and Arthur to get a good start, wonders if the twins are eleven.

Bang! BUPA Stage Four begins.

.........

The riders ride through Christies, McLaren Vale, Aldinga.

They climb Sellicks Hill.

Although Surfing-With-Whales has remembered the race plan,

Arthur and Pablo have not.

And Jack Bobridge gets King of the Mountain.

Sweezus pedals on doggedly, towards Strathalbyn.

Surfing-With-Whales has dropped back.

He is now level with Arthur and Pablo.

He is about to start telling them off, when he hears Pablo reciting:

I hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond......

and Arthur is laughing,

and Surfing-With-Whales decides not to.

........


At the finish. Mount Barker. Flags.

It is again a great day for team UniSA. Steele Von Hoff is the stage winner.

The crowd cheers. Brief excitement. Then it's over. Deflation. Here we are in Mount Barker.


.......


The wrap up.

Surfing-With-Whales: The SHITTIEST poetry!

Sweezus: What sort?

Surfing-With-Whales: Sex! Food! Adjectives!

Sweezus: And now look  at them. Who are those girls?

Richard Dawkins: They're called Emma and Irma.

Sweezus: What? Emma and Irma? They've grown up a bit! They must be.....

Richard Dawkins (hopefully) : Eleven?

Sweezus: Na.......

Surfing-With-Whales (cunningly): Yes......, they'd be eleven.

Stage Three: Norwood to Paracombe - The Puzzle

Early morning, in Norwood, before the race starts.

Team Philosophe and Team Condor meet up for a coffee.

David has spent the night collecting his thoughts on sleeping.

Let's hear them, says Richard Dawkins, stirring the elaborate leaf pattern in his froth.

When my perceptions are removed, says David, such as when sleeping, I am insensible of myself, and may truly be said not to exist. Just a playful thought there.

Glad you think it's playful, says Vello. Explain.

It's simple, says Pablo Neruda. I've tackled the same subject, but with more clarity.

Humph! says David. I should have thought I was perfectly clear.

Does anyone know when the race is starting? asks Gaius.

Yeah, says Sweezus. Does anyone? And where are we heading?

Paracombe, says Vello. But don't change the subject.

No, don't, says Richard Dawkins, wiping froth from his lips with a paper napkin. Go on, Pablo.

Pablo, swallowing the last dregs of his skinny soy latte:

When I sleep every night
what am I called or not called?
And when I wake
who am I, if I was not I
while I slept?

Excellent, says Richard Dawkins.

Well, really, sniffs David. It's just what I said.

It is, says Vello. Now we all know what sleep isn't. But no one wins a prize yet.

We need an eleven year old, says Richard Dawkins. How old is Terence?

Ask him, says David. He's over there with his Grandpa. Ahoy! Terence!

Terence comes over with a baby-cino. He has a white froth moustache. How adorable.

I don't suppose you are eleven? asks Richard Dawkins.

NO! says Terence. Much, much older.

Richard Dawkins looks sceptical

But there is no time to unravel this mathematical puzzle. The race is about to begin.

........

The race begins. The riders ride out of Norwood.

Arthur thinks he hears, as he is disappearing in the distance, a double cry of ARTHUR! ARTHUR!

Pablo: You have a fan club.

Arthur: No, that's not like me.

........

The race ends at Paracombe, wherever that is. It's windy.

The winner of the stage is Rohan Dennis, of Team BMC.

Hurrah for Rohan!

Who is he if he was not he when he slept last night?

Luckily, he has not thought to ask himself this question.

Stage Two: Unley To Stirling - Sleeping Competition

Bang! The teams ride out of Unley. The first thirty kilometres will be hard.

Vello and David are conserving their energy at the back of the peloton, and chatting.

Good idea of Richard's, says Vello. That sleep thing.

Yes, the competition, says David. Are you thinking of entering?

No, I didn't mean that, says Vello. But the more riders he gets interested.....

Aha! says David. I see where you're going.....

Watch out where you're going! cries a rider from Team Movistar, in front of whom Vello has wobbled.

Sorry, says Vello. You came too close. Were you trying to overhear me?

No! cries Juan Jose Lobato del Valle. I am pursuing my own tactic!

His tactic seems to be to keep to the back of the peloton. Sometimes this tactic pays off.

Vello and David speed up to draw level with Gaius and Richard, who are discussing the sleep competition.

Now then, says Vello. That's enough of that topic. Gaius is yawning.

I am not yawning, says Gaius. I was putting forward my motto. I had just reached the last word, AWAKE.

So it looked as though he was yawning, says Richard. AWAKE. See? But he wasn't.

Wasn't awake? says David.

Wasn't yawning, says Gaius. I am a person who has never had need of much sleep.

What is your motto? asks Vello.

Are you entering the competition? asks Gaius suspiciously.

No, says Vello.

To live is to be awake, says Gaius. An eleven year old could understand it.

A sloth could, says David, ungraciously.

Richard speeds up to draw level with Arthur and Pablo, who will doubtless have intriguing entries.

He makes a valiant effort, even passing Thomas de Gendt.

He comes up behind Pablo and Arthur.

Any ideas, boys? asks Richard.

Arthur and Pablo have many. Not all about sleeping.

But it suits them to humour Richard Dawkins.

I wrote a poem once about a soldier who was sleeping, says Arthur. It was called Le Dormeur du Val.

It's good, too, says Pablo. The soldier is lying crazily in the rags of silver grass. He's dead though, not sleeping. He has two red holes in his side.

I was sixteen, says Arthur.

Very nice, says Richard Dawkins. But sleeping is not being dead.

It's a start, says Arthur.

Richard Dawkins drops back, perhaps  in order to think of a clever reply, and is passed by Thomas de Gendt, who goes on to get King of the Mountain, and win the first sprint at Verdun.

Arthur and Pablo speed up, and eventually draw level with Sweezus and Surfing-With-Whales, who are also discussing the competition.

Sweezus is trying to remember his Shakespeare.

Yep! Got it! Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, says Sweezus.

Yeah, just like mum does, says Surfing-With-Whales.

Pablo looks sad, remembering the premature death of his mother.

The four of them slow down imperceptibly.

And perhaps also nearly everyone else does.

For what else can explain the success of the tactic of Juan Jose Lobato del Valle, as he crosses the finish line in Stirling?

Stage One: Tanunda to Campbelltown - Losing Momentum

Three, two, one, go! The teams ride out of Tanunda.

Team Philosophe and Team Condor are out near the front.

Urgh! says David. I don't expect to maintain this position.

Nor me, says Gaius. I ate too much on the rest day.

Anyone would think, says Vello, that you didn't enjoy it.

No, no, says Gaius. I always enjoy Belle et Bonne's picnics.

It was delightful, says Richard Dawkins, De-lightful. I particularly liked the zucchini and corn fritters, and the Eden Valley Riesling.

So did I , says Vello. A good drop, that riesling. Pale gold, with a bouquet of apple blossom.

Pablo liked it, says David. He drank more than he should have. So did Arthur, and Surfing-With-Whales.

And Sweezus, says Gaius. But he seemed in fine form this morning.

Was he there? asks Richard Dawkins. That's funny.....

He didn't join in much, says Vello. He just ate smoked chicken and mettwurst, and slurped down the wine.

I was quite surprised, says David. I thought he'd have been into your.......competition thing.

Pablo was, says Richard Dawkins.

He speeds up to catch up with Pablo.

He passes Jack Bobridge.

Jack Bobridge waves at Richard Dawkins.

Hello, old man. (You'll be sorry you did that).

Richard Dawkins draws level with Surfing-With-Whales and Arthur.

Oi, Richard,  says Surfing-With-Whales. I been thinking... about the sleep competition thing....

It's only for scientists, says Richard.

And Pablo, says Arthur.

All right, and Pablo, says Richard Dawkins. He has a fine knack for expression.

Richard speeds up, to be level with Pablo Neruda.

Here's one for you, says Pablo Neruda, still pedaling hard:

I should like to sleep like a cat
with all the fur of time
with a tongue rough as flint
with the dry sex of fire.....

Richard is visibly moved.

Pablo speeds up and draws level with Sweezus.

What the fuck was that about? says Sweezus.

It's a competition, says Pablo. You can win a thousand dollars.

Mega! says Sweezus. What for?

You have to explain sleep so that an eleven year old can understand it, says Pablo Neruda. It's on Richard's website.

Sweezus thinks about sleep for a moment, as Jack Bobridge speeds by.

Was that your entry, that sleep like a cat one? says Sweezus. Dry sex of fire? If I was eleven, I don't reckon....

No that's not my entry, says Pablo Neruda. I was just teasing Richard.

Well, concentrate man, says Sweezus. Lead me out. I wanna get King of the Mountain.

Pablo tries his hardest.

But now they have lost their momentum.

Tour Down Under - Clash Of Cultures

People's Choice Classic. Thirty laps of the Rymill Park circuit.

The premier Jay Weatherill fires a pistol. They're off.

Team Philosophe gets off to a wobbly start.

This is thanks to an unforeseen event.

Terence has secreted himself in the wicker basket of Richard Dawkin's bicycle. After the pistol shot, Terence pops up.

Richard swerves sideways, catching the front wheel of Gaius, who crashes into Vello.

Steady! cries Vello. What's up?

Little fellow in my basket, says Richard Dawkins. Don't worry. I'm tipping him out.

He stops at the side of the track to ditch Terence, who stomps back to the start line, where Karl Marx is standing with Belle et Bonne.

Terence, that was naughty, says Belle.

I don't get how he could see me, says Terence. Grandpa said he wouldn't.

Karl, says Belle et Bonne, what nonsense have you been feeding Terence?

Atheism is not nonsense, says Marx. But you try explaining it to him.

........

Sweezus  and Surfing-With-Whales have got off to a good start.

Arthur and Pablo Neruda are not far behind.

We need to speed up, says Arthur.

Cadel Evans rides up beside them.

See, says Arthur.

Hi there, says Cadel, in an expansive mood.

It's his last Tour down Under.

Hi there! says Pablo Neruda.

Cadel speeds up and disappears round a bend.

Gaius rides up beside Arthur and Pablo Neruda.

Did you boys see what happened back there? says Gaius.

No, says Arthur. What happened?

I think you should ride up and tell Sweezus, says Gaius.

Tell him what? asks Pablo Neruda.

That little monkey, Terence, says Gaius. He upset Richard Dawkins.

Okay, says Arthur. I'll go.

Arthur speeds up, leaving Pablo Neruda level with Gaius.

Vroom! Marcel Kittel rides by.

Nice boy, that Kittel, says Gaius. And very fast. He'll probably win today. Enjoying the race so far, Pablo?

Very much, says Pablo Neruda. This is a beautiful circuit and.... the girls are so pretty.

Great Jupiter! says Gaius. What girls? This is no time....

All around us, says Pablo Neruda, turning his head. Girls in short dresses, short skirts and short shorts. I am filled with a feeling of longing

He reaches into his lycra back pocket and pulls out a pen.

Gaius is offended. He speeds up, in spite of the bruise on his bottom.

......

Arthur has caught up to Sweezus.

What's up? says Sweezus.

Terence upset Richard Dawkins, says Arthur.

Shit. I'm not his keeper, says Sweezus. And where's Pablo?

Back there somewhere, says Arthur. He doesn't seem all that motivated.

.......

He does now though.

Richard Dawkins has caught up to Pablo Neruda and introduced himself.

Cameron Meyer, Richie Porte, Michael Rogers, Luis Leon Sanchez, Martin Elmiger and Wouter Wippert ride past them.

Richard and Pablo don't even notice. They are deep in intellectual conversation about various topics.

Love poetry, for example, and the mysterious nature of sleep.

The Condor Leaves Its Casket

Saturday night. Victoria Square. The team presentation is over, the free concert has begun.

Sheppard are singing Geronimo!

Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen are trying to hold a civilised conversation.

Phil Liggett: What a cacophony! But that went very well.

Paul Sherwen: It did indeed. Let's hope the rest of the Tour runs as smoothly.

Phil Liggett: It will do. But what do you think of Team Philosophe's new line up?

Paul Sherwen: Richard Dawkins? Vello's taking a calculated risk there.

Phil Liggett: I know what you mean, Paul. The bicycle. He calls it his lucky bicycle.

Paul Sherwen: He does. And that surprises me.

Phil Liggett: And then there's Gaius, who appears to have some sort of injury.

Paul Sherwen: Yes, but he's playing it down. One or two of the journalists have commented on that ring he sits on whenever he thinks no one's looking.

Phil Liggett: And what do you think of Team Condor? A wonderful name, that.

Paul Sherwen: A wonderful name. Named after the Andean Condor, one of the birds Pablo Neruda so beautifully described in his poem, Andean Condor.

Phil Liggett: Tell me again Paul. How does it go?

Paul Sherwen: We're not on the television now, Phil.

Phil Liggett: Ha ha. That means you don't know.

.........

Team Condor is enjoying drinks round the back with Richie Porte of Team Sky.

Richie Porte: This is so cool, seeing you guys.

Sweezus: Likewise, man. How's the writing?

Richie Porte: Up and down. How you doing, Arthur?

Arthur: Good.

Sweezus: He's lying. He got scraped knees after escaping through the emergency hatch of a Premier Stateliner.

Arthur: Knees must.

Richie Porte: Ha ha. Knees must. Arthur you kill me.

Surfing-With-Whales: Knees must what? I don't get it.

Pablo Neruda: It is funny because it is playing with words.

Richie Porte: Are you that Spanish poet?

Pablo Neruda: Chilean.

Richie Porte: I thought you were Spanish.

Pablo Neruda: I write in Spanish.

Surfing-With-Whales: With a green pen.

Richie Porte: Cool. Green pen eh?

Sweezus: Yeah, he wrote Andean Condor.

Richie Porte: Condor. That's a bird, right? Don't you guys have a thing against birds.

Pablo Neruda: I don't.

Sweezus: It's me that does, but I'm not against vultures.

Arthur (quoting): And the condor leaves its casket
                              sharpens its talons on the rocks
                                 spreads its mystical plumage
                                      flies to the end of the sky
                                           pecks at the sky's zinc
                                            waiting for a sign of blood....

Sweezus: See what I mean?

Richie Porte: Man, that's awesome.

Pablo Neruda: Arthur missed some lines out though.

Richie Porte: It's still awesome. Well, I'd better get going. Big day tomorrow.

Surfing-With-Whales: Not that big. People's Choice Classic. Only 51k.

Richie Porte: Yeah, but the condor leaves its casket.......

Sweezus: Good one, dude! Game on.

The Metaphysics Of Travel

Gaius is on the plane back to Adelaide.

He leans back in his seat, easing his bottom.

How kind of Vello, to pay for his ticket. At least that is what Gaius supposes.

Marx and Sweezus are on the same flight, sitting two seats behind him.

And Pablo Neruda sits alone somewhere down near the back.

He is busy scribbling, in green ink, the following:

.....seated upon the sea

the pelican ponders profound problems

school of sardines

pale autumn fish

the iron plumage takes to the air and cruises the silence in silence...

He wonders if Arthur would like it?

....

Arthur would like it.

But Arthur is not on the plane.

Neither is Surfing-With-Whales. Nor is Terence.

They are hitching a ride on a bus.

One does not do that normally.

........

Vello is getting toey.

Stop fidgeting, says David.

I'm trying to recall something, says Vello. What Gaius said, on the phone.

No doubt something about Tasmania, says David. Or barnacles, or some such.

I don't think so, says Vello. It was more like........it sounded like....... 'booze'.

Good gracious, says David. Perhaps he has a hangover.

It doesn't augur well, says Vello. Particularly in the circumstances.

Ye-e-e-s, says David. Our other problematical team member.

Indeed, says Vello. Who knew?

Richard Dawkins, says David. You would think, wouldn't you, that he'd have.......

......a decent racing bike, says Vello. Not that Oxford donnish contraption.

Richard comes in to the office, with Belle et Bonne.

Talking about my bicycle? he says jauntily.

Ha ha, no, not at all, says David.

I think you were, says Richard. Let me tell you, it's never been beaten.

He just beat me, says Belle et Bonne.

But that isn't hard, dear, says Vello. You don't try.

She was trying, says Richard Dawkins, huffily.

Of course I was, says Belle et Bonne.

She smiles a dazzling smile at Richard Dawkins

.......

The plane lands at Adelaide Airport.

Gaius, Sweezus, Marx and Pablo Neruda get off.

........

Half way to Adelaide, Surfing-With-Whales is asleep on the bus.

Arthur is trying to work out a way to get off the bus without passing the driver, to whom he owes a gratuity.

Terence looks out of the window.

He sees a pink lake, on which gracefully lands a green pelican, with a transparent plastic purse-pouch full of sardines and pale autumn fish.

Race Tactics

On board the Spirit of Tasmania ( night crossing ):

Clang! Whirr!

Elsewhere, in a row of adjoining Ocean Recliners:

Surfing-With-Whales: Pablo Nerada........

Pablo Neruda: Neruda.

Surfing-With-Whales: Yeah I remember..... A Dog Has Died.

Pablo Neruda: That's one of mine.

Sweezus: Shit man, sympathy, that sucks. I had a dog once.

Arthur: A poet.

Sweezus: Man! I think I know a dog when....

Arthur: Pablo Neruda is a poet.

Sweezus: Two poets in the team. Woah! Next level!

Pablo Neruda: I also have a bird one. The Art Of Birds

Sweezus: Save it. We need to talk race tactics.

Surfing-With-Whales: Yeah, race tactics. When is it?

Sweezus: Sunday, People's Choice Classic. Monday, Rest day. Tuesday, Stage One.

Surfing-With-Whales (admiringly): You got an app or something?

Sweezus: Yeah I got one.

.........

Somewhere else on board the Spirit of Tasmania ( a deluxe suite ):

Gaius: This is nice. I must thank the captain.

Marx: It doesn't feel right.

Terence: Why?

Marx: It smacks of social inequality.

Gaius: Go and sleep on an Ocean Recliner. Just remember, don't let it down unless you mean to stay down.

Marx: No, no, I wouldn't go that far.

.......

Meanwhile, in Adelaide, in the office of Velosophy, the phone rings:

Vello: No! Not another one!

David: You don't have to answer.

Richard Dawkins: What's the problem?

David: Journalists calling up for Vello's opinion.

Vello: I made the mistake once of saying something daft.

Richard Dawkins: Tell me about it.

David: Ha ha. Of course. You've done the same thing.

Richrd Dawkins: No, I meant it literally. What was it?

Vello: Oh, you know, that thing they quote. I don't remember even saying it anyway.

David: About defending someone's right to say something you don't agree with. To the death.

Vello: That's the bit I don't remember.

Richard Dawkins: Yet it's become a meme.

David: Wait. It's not a journalist, it's Gaius.

Vello; Give it here. Gaius! Where the dickens are you? The People's Choice Classic is on Sunday!

Gaius: ( something unintelligible)

Vello: Never mind just get your arse here. Catch a plane.

Bicycle Maths

Sweezus, Surfing-With-Whales and Arthur arrive at the ferry terminal in Devonport.

They are in a queue waiting to load bicycles on.

Hey! says a cyclist, to Arthur. I know you!

Arthur looks at the cyclist.

It's the one that he hit with the door.

Going to Melbourne? asks the cyclist.

Adelaide, says Arthur. The Tour Down Under. We're in it. This is my team.

Hi, says the cyclist to Sweezus and Surfing-With-Whales. You don't happen to need another team member?

We do, says Sweezus. Do you have any experience?

Sure, says the cyclist. Heaps. My name is Pablo Neruda. What's yours?

...........

The wicked Camper pulls up at the ferry terminal in Devonport.

Marx and Terence get out.

Bye, guys! says Rosamunda. Have a good trip back to Adelaide.

Good bye and thank you, says Marx.

Why aren't they coming? asks Terence, as the Wicked camper disappears down the road.

They have something in common, says Marx darkly.

I know! says Terence. The bicycle!

Bicycle! No, it was something female that Karl Marx had detected.

But it is true that they have driven off with his bicycle.

........

Katherine's car is the last to arrive at the ferry terminal.

It stops but no one gets out.

Inside the car, a discussion:

Ying: How are we meant to get back now?

Gaius: No doubt there is some sort of......bus.

Margaret: Gaius, this is so typical.

Katherine: Disorganised.

Gaius: A change of plan.

Stew: We had bikes. Where are they?

Ying: On top of the camper. Oh look, there's Karl Marx and Terence!

Katherine ( head out of the window): Yoo hoo!

Marx (coming over): Hello, Katherine.

Terence ( behind him, and lower): When can we get on?

Marx: When we're ready.

Ying: Where's the camper?

Marx: The girls have gone off already.

Terence: With the bicycle.

Ying: Bicycle?

Marx: My bicycle. Not to worry.

Stew: Only one bicycle? There were two.

Marx: There were four. What does it matter?

Ying: We need to get back to the Uni, to get the samples analysed, and present our papers.

Gaius: Good girl. And here's your assessment. I've awarded you ten extra credits. And five for Stew. Give it to Poppy.

Ying: I don't understand why you aren't coming.

Margaret: Because everything's gone tits-up.

Gaius: Not at all. Time has got away from me. I must return to Adelaide to set up my team.

Katherine: Team? Aren't you riding with Vello and David?

Gaius: No one told me. Am I?

Katherine: Well I thought so. They managed to attract one good rider, and they needed one more, and thought of you.

Gaius: Who is it?

Katherine: Richard Dawkins.

Marx: The atheist?

Terence: What's an atheist?

Katherine: Marx will explain. Now do please get out of the car, Ying and Stew. Margaret and I don't want to miss our booking for dinner.

.......


Toot toot. The Spirit Of Tasmania departs for the night crossing to Melbourne, with one bicycle extra, but one bicycle short.

A Teacup Of Potential Particles

Sweezus and Surfing-With-Whales ride into Penguin.

Katherine's car is parked outside the Groovy Penguin.

The Wicked camper is parked across the road.

Where is everyone? The cyclists dismount.

Arthur appears on the esplanade in a kind of a hurry.

What's up man? says Sweezus. Where's the others?

On the beach, says Arthur. I need to get away.

Sweezus and Surfing-With-Whales wait for an explanation.

Now, says Arthur.

Okay. That's enough explanation.

Sweezus helps Arthur unhook a bike from the Wicked camper.

........

Down on the beach at the shoreline there is feverish activity.

Hurry! says Gaius.

Rosamunda and Ying are sifting through broken shells and dropping random bits into a teacup.

Unni and Stew are in the water up to their ankles.

Katherine is digging a series of holes in the sand.

Margaret is marching up the beach to commandeer a crab net she has seen a child using.

Marx is looking bemused at all the activity, which he has set in motion.

Terence is pointing excitedly. There's one! There's two! See, floating!

........

It's nineteen kilometres from Penguin to Burnie.

Sweezus, Surfing-With-Whales and Arthur are almost there.

Want to stop off at the Uni and see Poppy? says Surfing-with-Whales.

No, says Arthur. Best if we don't.

We could tell her the samples are coming, says Surfing-With-Whales. And ....oh shit, we'll have to leave one of the bikes.

See, says Arthur. Best to keep going.

They agree that it's best to keep going.

..........

Gaius's bruise is beginning to ache.

He rubs his bottom.

Had enough? says Rosamunda. We've got two jars with their lids on, and a teacup of potential particles.

What? says Margaret, coming up with the crab net. Do we not need this crab net?

No, says Gaius. (What a pleasure it is to say a perfectly reasonable no to Margaret). We must push on to Burnie. I do hope Arthur has managed to find me a cushion.

Hah! says Margaret. Arthur! Will you admit finally that he is not always reliable?

Gaius will not admit anything until he sees or does not see a cushion.

They return to Katherine's car, with the diminished collection of samples and the crab net.

Rosamunda comes over.

Cushion? says Rosamunda. No?

No, says Margaret.

Perhaps you could sit on the crab net, suggests Rosamunda. A ring shape is useful.

So it is, says Marx. I use one whenever when I'm suffering from boils.

So Arthur is once again vindicated. After all, had he not ditched the samples there would have been no crab net for Gaius to sit on.

A Rule Karl Marx Hasn't Heard Of

Mummy Bin Penguin has never heard of reversible dwarfing.

Nor is she curious.

But Terence and Baby Bin Penguin are.

What does that mean? says Baby Bin Penguin.

Ask him, says Terence.

But Gaius is turning away, his jocular remark having fallen flat, as quite often happens.

Follow him, says Baby Bin Penguin. Then come back and tell me the answer.

Terence follows Gaius, who has already caught up with Karl Marx.

I should have known better, says Gaius.

I fully agree, says Marx. Ice won't do it. Not in this weather.

Pardon? says Gaius. I was referring to Bergmann's Rule. No doubt you, as an intellectual of some standing, will have heard of it.

Terence is listening. He hopes Grandpa Marx will have heard of it.

Yes, of course, says Marx. It's wrong, is it?

No, says Gaius. Allow me to explain. These Bin Penguins are larger than life. Manufactured.

I have ascertained that much myself, says Marx.

And Bergmann's Rule being that species of larger size are found in colder environments, while smaller species are found in warmer regions.......says Gaius. You follow me?

Tasmania being a warmer region, says Marx.

Yes, says Gaius. Relative to the Antarctic where large Emperor Penguins are found.

Yes? says Marx. And these Bin Penguins?......I'm sorry, I'm not quite following....

Purport to be FAIRY PENGUINS, says Gaius. The small ones.

Baby Bin Penguin is small, says Terence.

Not that small, says Gaius. Only small for a bin. Not a penguin. Hence my joke, which fell flat predictably.

A joke, says Terence. So what was it?

Marx is glad Terence asked. He wasn't going to.

Hurrrrr, grumbles Gaius. It is tedious explaining a joke.

Please! Please! says Terence.

There is evidence that reversible dwarfing occurred during two relatively brief upward excursions in temperature, the Paleocene-Eocene thermal maximum, and the Eocene thermal maximum, says Gaius. I was merely observing.......

Ha ha, laughs Marx. You were suggesting the size of the Bin Penguins, in this moderate climate, indicates they are due for reversible dwarfing, but of course, being bins, the idea remains merely fanciful.

At least someone appreciates my sense of humour, says Gaius.

Terence runs back to Baby Bin Penguin.

It was a JOKE, says Terence. A stupid grown up one. You wouldn't get it.

Try me, says Baby Bin Penguin.

You remain fanciful, says Terence.

Fanciful! O how this delights Baby Bin Penguin.

A Spell Of Reversible Happenings

Katherine's car roars into Penguin, and stops outside the Groovy Penguin Cafe.

Coffee break, says Katherine. Who wants what?

She takes orders, and goes into the cafe with Margaret.

Any sign of the Wicked camper? asks Gaius, shifting his position.

Yes, says Arthur. It's parked over there.

Be a good chap and see if they've got a spare cushion, says Gaius.

All right, says Arthur, opening the back door of the car.

Crunch! He has opened it onto a cyclist.

What bad luck it would be if the cyclist turns out to be Sweezus, or Surfing-With-Whales.

What good luck then, that it doesn't.

The cyclist has come off his bicycle and is sprawled on the road.

Sorry, says Arthur.

Don't worry, I'm used to it, says the cyclist, getting up and examining his bicycle, which is scratched but not otherwise damaged. What about your door?

It's not my door, says Arthur.

So nothing to worry about there. The cyclist gets back on his bicycle, and continues his journey to Burnie.

Cushion! says Gaius from the interior.

Going! says Arthur. He starts crossing the road.

The Wicked camper is unlocked and empty. Arthur gets in and looks around for a cushion.

As if there would be a cushion! He sits down on a hard metal box.

The door slides open and the head of Karl Marx appears.

Arthur! says Marx. Keeping the mud samples warm for your employer? They're not chickens you know. (Marx has made an error here. Gaius is not Arthur's employer).

Arthur stands up and opens the metal box on which he has been sitting.

He doesn't expect to see chickens.

Nor does he expect to smell what he smells, and see what he sees writhing.

He slams down the lid.

What is it? says Marx. Have they turned nasty?

Yes, says Arthur. Help me get them down to the sea.

Me? says Marx. It's not quite my milieu. I'll go and find Stew.

He heads off to the foreshore where Stew is just finishing a latte, and looking for a bin to dispose of his cup in.

Give me that, says Marx. I know where a bin is. You go back to the camper, and help Arthur throw out the samples. They've become a foul-smelling bacterial soup.

No way, says Stew. They're worth credits.

Ying has got out of Katherine's car and seen Stew and Marx fighting over a coffee cup.

Hey, says Ying. Calm down. Its just a coffee cup.

Gaius hobbles over. Where's Arthur? grumbles Gaius. I sent him for a cushion.

Hold this, says Marx. I know where Arthur is.

Now Gaius is holding the coffee cup.

Marx stalks back to the Wicked camper. Stew and Ying are deep in discussion.

Gaius looks around for a bin.

He spies The Bin Penguin Family, and totters over.

The pain in his bottom has made him if anything more observant.

Hm. Emperor Penguins, no doubt, mutters Gaius, dropping Stew's cup in.

Fairy, says Mummy Bin Penguin. We are local.

Interesting, says Gaius. It's not all that cold here. That's a distinct breach of Bergmann's Rule. I suspect you are due for a spell of reversible dwarfing.

Black White Black White

Don't worry, Daddy, says Mummy Bin Penguin. Children say hurtful things all the time. Baby, say sorry to Daddy.

Sorry, Daddy, says Baby Bin Penguin. Daddy, what's a grandpa?

Terence narrows his eyes.

Well, says Daddy Bin Penguin, in fact there can be no such thing.

See, says Baby Bin Penguin to Terence.

Terence can't let this go by. He marches straight up to the painted-on feet of Daddy Bin Penguin.

Who's YOUR daddy? says Terence.

Ha ha, says Daddy Bin Penguin. I am manufactured.

Wait till I tell Grandpa, says Terence. He'll have questions.

What sort of questions? asks Mummy. Daddy hasn't got time for questions. Its nearly dinner time.

Everyone has to answer Grandpa's questions, says Terence.

Why? asks Baby Bin Penguin.

So he knows everything, says Terence.

Is that a joke? asks Baby Bin Penguin.

It wasn't. But Terence has remembered how jokes once cemented their friendship.

Yes, says Terence.

I've got one says Baby Bin Penguin. What goes black white black white black white?

I don't know, says Terence.

A penguin rolling downhill, says Baby Bin Penguin.

Is that funny? asks Terence.

I don't know, says Baby Bin Penguin. I've never done it. Here's a better one. Where do penguins go swimming?

I don't know, says Terence.

At the South pool, says Baby Bin Penguin.

Ha ha ha ha! roars Marx heartily, looming up with his double espresso. Very funny!

Terence and Baby Bin Penguin look up at him expectantly.

Grandpa, says Terence, Baby Bin Penguin's daddy says he's manufactured.

Manufactured indeed, says Karl Marx. Yes, he would be. Perhaps I might ask him some questions.

He's too busy, says Baby Bin Penguin. It's dinner time.

Just one or two questions, says Marx, loudly.

Daddy Bin Penguin looks round.

Fire away, says Daddy Bin Penguin. I warn you though, I have my dignity.

Of course, says Marx. Blame the factory owner, not the product. May I ask, what is your function?

I am a bin sir, and proud of it, says Daddy Bin Penguin.

Why then are you formed like a penguin? asks Marx.

For tourism purposes, says Daddy.

And you get paid extra for that? asks Marx.

I receive more scraps, says Daddy. I get emptied more often.

You realise you are exploited, says Marx.

Do you have any literature I could read on the subject? asks Daddy Bin Penguin.

Yes, says Marx. But I don't have it with me. I shall post you a copy.

Make sure you address it properly, says Daddy Bin Penguin. A lot of mail goes astray here in Penguin.

Ha ha, laughs Marx, swallowing the rest of his coffee. May I?

Certainly, says Daddy Bin Penguin.

Marx tosses the empty coffee cup into the mouth of Daddy Bin Penguin, and starts walking away.

Nice chap, says Daddy Bin Penguin.

My grandpa, says Terence.

There's no such thing as a grandpa, says Baby Bin Penguin.

Listen up son, says Daddy Bin Penguin. We all have our different beliefs. One person's grandpa is another person's exploitative factory owner. We have to accept it.

Mummy Bin Penguin is relieved. So much for Marxist-style consciousness raising. Daddy Bin Penguin has missed the gentleman's point entirely.

No One Has A Grandpa

Eventually, Margaret and Ying, tired of waiting, make their way back to the vehicle.

At last! snaps Katherine.

Where's my hammer? says Margaret.

Where you left it, says Katherine. Now get in. We'll be late back to Penguin.

Margaret climbs in the front, next to Katherine.

Ying gets in the back, next to Arthur, who finds himself in the middle.

He doesn't like being in the middle. He wants to look out of the window.

Would you rather be in the middle? asks Arthur.

No thank you, says Ying.

I'll go in the middle, says Gaius. Stand up Arthur. I'll slide under you.

The car is already moving. Arthur stands up. His head appears between Margaret and Katherine.

Sit down Arthur! says Katherine.

I can't, says Arthur. Not while Gaius is moving.

Hurry up, Gaius, says Margaret. You ALWAYS were slow!

Gaius takes no notice of Margaret. He has more pressing problems. He has slid across some kind of prong.

Ouch, says Gaius, reaching under his bottom, and pulling out a geology hammer.

What is it! cries Katherine. Do I need to slow down?

No, no, says Gaius. It's all right.

He hands the geology hammer to Arthur in silence.

Arthur shoves it into his pocket.

Ying has missed everything. She has been looking out of the window, wishing she'd had the presence of mind to change places with Arthur. Then she would still be sitting beside him. Instead it is Gaius.

Gaius settles down in between Ying and Arthur.

He wriggles to get himself comfortable. He can't. He is going to have a big bruise.

Anyone like a jelly bean? asks Margaret, hoping by this means to smooth everything over.

We already ate them, says Katherine.

They drive on in silence to Penguin.

.........

Rosamunda, Unni, Marx, Stew and Terence arrive in Penguin, and head straight for the Groovy Penguin Cafe.

Grandpa! says Terence. Come and see Baby Bin Penguin!

First I should like a cup of coffee, says Marx.

I'll get that, says Unni. You go with Terence. What would you like?

A double espresso, says Marx. I'm in need of a pick-me-up.

Come ON! says Terence. He lives just over there.

Terence drags Marx over the road to where the family of Bin Penguins is arranged on the foreshore.

Baby Bin Penguin! cries Terence. I'm back! This is my Grandpa!

Baby Bin Penguin can't understand it. No one has a Grandpa.

Hello, Terence, says Baby Bin Penguin. Do you mean your dad?

Dad, says Terence, darkly. Do you mean Saint Joseph?

What? says Baby Bin Penguin. Are you an Adventist?

No! cries Terence, in tears.

What's this nonsense about Saint Joseph? says Marx. Religion is merely an opiate. Speaking of which, I've ordered a double espresso. Mustn't let it get cold.

He turns back towards the Groovy Penguin Cafe.

I like your dad, says Baby Bin Penguin. He's funny. I wish he was my dad.

Daddy Bin Penguin overhears this remark, and is not best pleased.

Should he say something?

Clang Clang Clang. He opens and shuts his bin mouth indecisively.

Hammer And Sweet Influence

Half an hour later, Margaret and Ying are still waiting for the hammer.

Margaret is cross.

I'm just going to wait here until Arthur brings it, says Margaret, picking at a schistoic quartzite.

Watch your fingernails, says Ying.

Oh yes, dammit! says Margaret.

He may not come back, says Ying.

Of course he will, says Margaret. He's reliable.

Yes, says Ying, doubtfully.

In any case says Margaret. Katherine and Gaius.......

She kicks at a phyllite, and dislodges a thin piece of slate.

........

Katherine, Gaius and Arthur are in Katherine's car eating jelly beans.

First the blue ones and green ones.

They all taste the same, don't you find, says Katherine.

Katherine, says Gaius. That is quite inconceivable.

What do you think, Arthur? asks Katherine.

Arthur is sucking a blue one.

When you suck a blue one, says Arthur, the sea looks green.

Gaius is sucking a green one.

Great Jumping Jupiter! It doesn't look green at all to him. It looks..... bluish.

What are you sucking, Katherine? asks Arthur.

Katherine can't remember. She spits the jelly bits into her hand.

She wouldn't normally, but she is on holiday.

The jelly bits are nondescript grey.

Arthur and Gaius look at one another.

Katherine gazes out to sea.

It sparkles emerald green, shimmers sapphire blue, riddled with indigo and brown striplets, while white spume crashes upwards and falls in yellow sun-splashed fountains of fine rainbow spray. In other words, fairly colourful.

My goodness, says Katherine. It's a nondescript grey! You're right Arthur. You've discovered a new scientific hypothesis.

Nonsense Katherine, says Gaius. You don't discover an hypothesis.

Ah ah! laughs Katherine. It isn't clear whether she is laughing about her jelly bean colour deception or about Gaius saying 'an' hypothesis. (Although laughing ah ah is a clue)

Next they start on the red ones.

Charmed Life

Meanwhile, Katherine and Margaret have driven off in search of the Arthur Lineament.

Gaius, Ying and Arthur are in the back, with Ying in the middle.

Arthur's shorts are still wet from this morning. She can feel a damp patch on her leg.

Now then, Arthur, says Margaret. You've been to the Lineament. You must direct us.

I know the way! says Ying. It's part of the GeoTrail.

Oh good girl! says Margaret. Ha ha. We don't need you Arthur.

In that case, says Gaius, Arthur can help me to sort out these notes.

He leans across Ying and hands Arthur a large sheaf of papers.

Some of the papers drop into Ying's lap.

Ying picks up the top one.

It's her mark sheet. Two extra credits. Is that all? She'll see about that.

Turn left, says Ying. Down this track here.

Katherine turns left.

Oh no! says Katherine. My car won't....

We'll all get out then, says Margaret. Come on.

They get out and follow Ying to a place of dark jagged rocks, folding and thrusting.

See this, says Ying. This is part of a Cambrian-age high strain metamorphic belt, formed as a result of Middle Cambrian arc-continent collisions.

Is it indeed? says Margaret. Oh yes I see. It looks to be composed of allochthonous slices. And look here. Do I see amphibolites and mafic schists? How very fascinating.

Yes, says Ying. They say some of these granitoid rocks may correlate with the Willouran flood basalts in South Australia.

Marvellous! says Margaret. I must take one home. Arthur! Bring me my hammer.

Oh sure. Like Arthur is going to break off a huge chunk of granite. What does she think this is, the Thai-Burma death railway?

Arthur turns and walks back to the car.

He gets in and stares out of the window, at the crashing green ocean.

Gaius's face appears at the window.

Have you found Margaret's hammer? asks Gaius.

No, says Arthur. And I'm asking myself why I'm here.

That's just what I'm asking myself, says Gaius.

He gets in and joins Arthur staring out of the window, at the thundering blue ocean.

Katherine appears. She gets into the driver's seat.

Sorry, says Katherine. This hasn't worked out very well. Would either of you like a sweetie?

She opens the glove box.

An assortment of jelly beans tumble out.

The Joy Of Not Being Spanish

The Wicked camper travels east down the Bass Highway, in the direction of Penguin.

Rosamunda is driving. Unni is beside her. In the back are Marx, Terence and Stew.

Grandpa, says Terence.

What is it? says Marx, aroused from a reverie of sweet honey... and soft artisan chocolate.

What if you like something you're not meant to? asks Terence.

Marx shifts uncomfortably.

Stew grins.

Such as, says Marx stiffly.

Birds, says Terence. I sometimes don't like them, but sometimes I do.

The proper way to resolve a contradiction, says Marx, is through dialectic.

I don't have a phone, says Terence.

Dialectic is something you DO, says Marx. Through dialectic, contradictions are resolved at a higher level of truth.

I get it, says Stew. It's like arguing.

No, says Marx. Not like arguing.

Until someone wins, says Stew.

Until the truth is reached, says Marx.

I get it, says Terence.

But how do you know when you've reached it? asks Stew.

Everyone stops talking, says Terence.

.........

Sweezus and Surfing-With-Whales are cycling some distance behind the Wicked camper.

I dunno about going to Penguin, says Sweezus.

How come? says Surfing-With-Whales.

Dunno, says Sweezus. Like.... I just gave in too easily.

Gave in? says Surfing-With-Whales. It's on the WAY, man.

I'm the one who's older, says Sweezus, pursuing his demon.

Older than who? Oh. At last Surfing-With-Whales gets it.

Terence, says Surfing-With-Whales, is a cement head.

Yeah but that makes it worse, says Sweezus. I have to live with starting out as this cement head, that likes penguins.

And parrots, says Surfing-With-Whales. But not owls, he adds, helpfully.

Yeah, that's cool, says Sweezus. Not owls.

And anyway, says Surfing-With-Whales. Isn't he fucken Spanish?

Spanish! Yes Terence is Spanish! He's from Barcelona. The Sagrada Famiglia. And Sweezus himself is not Spanish.

The highest level of truth has been reached, through dialectic.

Sweezus feels liberated. He speeds up.

Surfing-With-Whales speeds up to match him.

They turn their heads to look at the coastline. Rugged cliffs, emerald waters, thrusting rocks, the odd  seabird gliding down on a thermal......

They continue to ride towards Penguin.

Bad Qualities Of Birdness

Well, I'm off, says Zak. See yuz later.

See ya, says Stew.

Zak drives off in the Hilux, to regions unknown.

I suppose we should head back to Burnie, says Rosamunda.

Yeah, says Stew. We could take the samples back to the uni, and start getting them analysed.

Exactly, says Rosamunda. Gaius would like that.

I know someone who wouldn't, says Marx.

Who? says Unni.

Ying, says Marx. She did most of the digging. She should get the credit.

Man! That sounds like wrong thinking! says Sweezus.

You don't know her as I do, says Marx. She's a clever young person. She believes the future lies in artisan honey and chocolate........

Capitalism! says Sweezus.

Production controlled by the people, says Marx. You have not been listening.

Sweezus has been listening. So has everyone else.

Marx is sweet on Ying.

Grandpa? says Terence.

What? says Marx, sharply.

Can we go back to Penguin? says Terence.

It's not up to me, says Marx. It should be a communal decision.

We go through Penguin on the way back to Burnie, says Rosamunda.

Geez....... says Surfing-With-Whales.

It's the first thing he's said since the pie.

But wait, he's about to add something......

There's four bikes, says Surfing-With-Whales.

So? says Rosamunda. We leave two behind, one for Ying, one for Arthur. And we put two on the roof rack. Or, you and Sweezie can ride them. Then we can meet up in Penguin.

Yay! We ARE going to Penguin! cries Terence.

I don't call that a communal decision, says Marx. What about voting?

Sweezus regards his young prototype, Terence.

How come Penguin? asks Sweezus.

I LOVE Penguin! says Terence. And I love Baby Bin Penguin. He says Don't Go Far Off.

A penguin's a bird though, says Sweezus.

NO IT ISN'T ! says Terence.

It is an actual bin, says Unni.

Sweezus weighs up the bad qualities of bird-ness against the good ones of bin-ness.

Terence waits.

He hums Don't Go Far Off.  "Hum Hum Hum Hum"

Not trying to influence Sweezus or anything.

It's a poem. It doesn't have a tune.

All right, Penguin, says Sweezus, eventually.

Geological Collision And Breakup

What a lot of people, says Margaret, looking round at the party.

She had not expected so many.

But where is Gaius?

He'll be here somewhere, says Katherine.

He's behind the counter, says Terence.

He is not behind the counter, but just to one side of the counter. He appears to be choosing a drink.

There you are, Gaius, says Margaret. Now, don't say anything. What's done is done.

Gaius turns. He doesn't say anything. But what has been done?

However, says Margaret, now our paths have crossed, we ought to go on together.

I'm on my way back to Burnie, says Gaius. My samples.....

Let me see them, says Margaret.

The samples of Dismal Swamp mud are arrayed on the counter, awaiting the ice.

Margaret twists off the lid of the nearest.

Pooh! says Margaret. Smells like VOMIT! You haven't been keeping them cold.

We're buying ice, says Gaius. It's all under control.

It's too late, says Margaret. You might as well throw them away.

This is our project! says Ying. We can't throw them away.

Yeah no way! says Stew. We need the credits.

Suit yourselves, says Margaret tartly.

She lapses into a momentary depression.

Why does everything always go wrong?

Never mind, Margaret, says Katherine, there is still all the interesting geology. What is it? The Liniment?

Arthur's Lineament, says Sweezus. We saw it, Arthur and me.

What? says Gaius. When was this? This morning?

Yeah, says Sweezus. It was basically just these rocks. Thrusting.

Isoclinal, says Arthur.

Arthur! says Margaret. You surprise me!

What about me? says Sweezus.

Yes what about HIM? says Terence. He said thrusting.

Some words are more powerful than others to a geologist, observes Katherine.

They are, says Margaret, trying not to think about thrusting.

So who's coming? says Katherine. A nice little side trip. Gaius, and your students, and Arthur. No wait, there's not enough room.

Then I won't come, says Gaius.

Nonsense, says Katherine. We can do without one of the students. Who'll be the lucky one?

.....

Five minutes later, Katherine's car leaves Marrawah, for Arthur River.

Katherine and Margaret are in the front

Gaius, Arthur and Ying in the back seat.

Ying is the lucky one.

Failure And The Sad Result

A map? Arthur doesn't have one.

Rosamunda googles one up.

Drat, says Gaius. No way out but the highway.

What's the matter? asks Unni. Is it the note?

Yes, says Gaius. Katherine is here in Tasmania.

Of course she is, says Rosamunda. How d'you think she got her car back?

And that's not the worst of it, says Gaius. She's with MARGARET.

She is, says Rosamunda. I suppose we ought to have told you. They want to meet up.

I shall have to come up with a plan to avoid them, says Gaius. Arthur, any suggestions?

Huh? says Arthur, who has been talking Tour tactics with Sweezus.

About Katherine and Margaret, says Gaius. They're motoring this way.

So? says Arthur.

Read this, says Gaius, pushing Arthur the note.

Dear Gaius (reads Arthur), I shall overlook the fact that you made off with my car without asking. It has all turned out for the best. I am here in Tasmania with Margaret, who is keen to catch up. We shall motor to Burnie, and then on to Penguin, Smithton and Marrawah, looking out for your Wicked camper. See you shortly, regards Katherine.

There's no other road out of Marrawah, says Gaius. They're bound to spot me.

They'll spot the camper, says Arthur. But you might not be in it.

They'd spot me on a bicycle, says Gaius.

Country people ..... begins Arthur, looking at Zak, who after all, has a Hilux.

Are idiots, says Marx, unhelpfully.

Zak is not even listening. He's on the phone to a mate.

But imagine. If he had been listening:

He could have given Gaius a lift back to Burnie. enhancing the reputation of people who live in the country.

Gaius could have avoided a meeting with Margaret.

Arthur would have earned kudos for the escape plan.

And Marx's cruel comment would have proved to be nothing more than the sad result of a classical education.

Instead, a vehicle rolls up outside the general store.

Katherine and Margaret get out.

They enter.

Well I never, says Katherine.  Inside every princess is a sphincter. What genius came up with that one?

It's meant to say blowhole, says Terence.

Science Or Menace?

In the Marrawah general store:

Good thinking, Arthur, says Gaius. Ice is just the ticket.

Rosamunda shoots him a look.

But it wasn't..... says Arthur.

Charmed life, mouths Rosamunda. Just suck it up.

Ying comes over.

Since her conversation with Marx she has become bolder.

Your bike is dirty, says Ying.

I know, says Arthur.

Shall I clean it for you? says Ying.

No, says Arthur. Why would you want to?

Because I like you, says Ying.

Arthur stops eating his scallop pie.

Marx is listening. So is Sweezus.

If you like him, says Sweezus, don't try and change him. His likes his stuff dirty.

Wrong thinking! says Marx. There is always room for improvement. Look at Ying, who has recently displayed a new found courage and eaten of scum.

Unni and Rosamunda can't believe it. She's eaten of scum?

Awesome! says Sweezus. How come?

It was at my suggestion, says Marx. The smear of an unknown substance on the crossbar. She swallowed it. And good for her, too!

You, says Rosamunda, are a menace. It was you that made Terence eat mud.

YES! says Terence. But he's my grandpa. And it was science.

It wasn't science, says Unni. He's just likes to egg people on. Remember what he said about his sisters, eating mud pies......

Marx performs a mindful self criticism. It's true. He is a menace.

He shoves the rest of his own scallop pie into his overall pocket.

He will finish it later. It will be less appetising.

Arthur is looking at Ying. Ying is looking at Arthur.

We're heading back soon, says Arthur.

I know, says Ying. You've still got our car keys. Mine and Stew's.

I haven't, says Arthur. (No point hiding it now.)

What? says Ying. So where are they?

Not sure, says Arthur. When you and Stew get back to Burnie, there are these two students, they've got the car keys. And the cars. And we've got their bicycles.

The penny drops. Ying has eaten of scum from the crossbar of some random person, who now has her car.

Still, who can stay cross with Arthur?

Gaius meanwhile, having finished his pie, is looking vaguely at the wall behind the counter, on which hangs a calendar.

Great Jupiter! It's January already!

This calls for a tightening of plans.

Arthur, says Gaius. Do you realise it's January?

I do now, says Arthur.

Shit, is it? says Sweezus. We have to get back for the Tour. I'm supposed to be getting a team up.

Am I in it? says Arthur.

Am I? says Surfing-With-Whales.

Yes, says Sweezus. You guys are in it. I just need one more and a backup.

I too am getting a team up, says Gaius. I was hoping.....

Oh that reminds me, says Unni. Gaius. When we took Katherine's car back, she left you a message.

Really, says Gaius, what is it?

It's a note, says Unni.

She reaches into her pocket and hands him a note.

Gaius reads it.

Great thundering Jupiter! says Gaius. Arthur, bring me a map!