Long Walk To The Bottom

Terence, says Gaius, let that be a lesson to you.

What lesson? asks Terence.

Not to blindly accept a bargain, says Gaius.

But Terence is pleased with his bargain. It was a good story.

What kind of mud pies were they? asks Terence.

What's that? says Marx.

His fertile mind has passed on to a contemplation of rent tax.

Mud pies, says Terence. The ones for your sisters.

THEY called them mud pies, says Marx. I made them with dough, but my hands were dirty.

Terence likes this development.

Sweezus is less impressed.

He is also quite keen to get going.

You guys coming? says Sweezus.

Sure, says Surfing-With-Whales. You got wheels?

Bikes, says Sweezus. What about you?

Arthur and me've got bikes, says Surfing-With-Whales.

No you haven't, says Ying. We're using them, Stew and me.

It dawns on Gaius that there is a problem.

........

Gaius is walking the board walk trail to the top of the Giant Slide, thinking.

The project has been going quite well.

Ying and Stew have collected multiple samples.

Pity Terence swallowed the best one.

But the upside is that after vomiting it up he collected another.

Which ought to be doubly informative.

However...

What was he thinking? .....oh yes, the problem of transport.



He arrives at the top, and goes straight to the office.

Raps on the glass.

Yes? says Mohammed. Uh. It's you.

Yes it is, says Gaius. I don't suppose the two young ladies.....?

The two young ladies have left, says Mohammed. Only one will return.

Which one? asks Gaius.

Miss Moon, says Mohammed.

Miss Moon. That could be either of them.

What did she look like, asks Gaius.

Like a boy, says Mohammed. A pretty one.

Gaius thinks it is probably Unni.

If that is so, he will no longer have access to pencils. Rosamunda has turned out to be less than reliable.

Thank goodness for Arthur.

Was there any message? asks Gaius. From the ladies?

No, says Mohammed. Have you been left in the lurch?

Of course not, says Gaius. I have just come up here to ....err... see if there might be a bus.

No bus, says Mohammed. Would you like to buy a postcard?

I am a natural historian, says Gaius. I don't buy postcards.

The money goes to the preservation of the Tarkine, says Mohammed.

Very commendable, says Gaius. Tell you what. Give me one. There's someone down there who may buy it.

I know who that is, says Mohammed. The old chap in the overalls. Pretends to be studying our business model. He doesn't fool me for a minute.

Never mind, says Gaius, quickly. I must return to my party. May I go down the slide?

Two dollars, says Mohammed.

Gaius is disgusted. He turns away and begins the long walk to the bottom.