His First Bristlemas

It's good we got away with a warning, says Dries, as he and Gaius cycle away from Brisbane airport.

I fail to see why we needed a warning, says Gaius. We did nothing wrong.

It's the times, says Dries. Airlines are jumpy.

True, says Gaius. And there was bloodshed. But all's well that ends well.

Are we there yet? asks Terence, poking his head out of the back back. My parrot feels chalky.

No, says Gaius. It's a long way to the Brain Institute. What do you mean chalky?

White and crumbly, says Terence.

Like cheese? asks Dries.

No like me, when I feel chalky, says Terence. Actually it's me that feels chalky.

Don't be silly, says Gaius. You are just seeking attention.

I'm going to throw up, says Terence.

We'd better stop, says Dries. I don't want him to throw up in my back pack.

They stop.

Terence is lifted out of the back pack, along with baby B-B, and placed on the grass.

Better now? says Dries. Try some deep breathing.

Terence tries some deep breathing. It's hard.

What's Bristlemas? asks baby B-B.

Pardon? says Gaius.

What's Bristlemas? Holly said it was Bristlemas, says baby B-B.

You must have misheard her, says Dries. She said Christmas. That's was why the captain let us off with a warning. Because it was Christmas.

Christmas, says Terence. Is it Christmas?

Not yet, says Gaius. Tomorrow.

Terence perks up. He feels less chalky.

Tomorrow is our birthday, says Terence to baby B-B.  I get presents. You get .....what do you normally get for Bristlemas?

Baby B-B, doesn't know. This will be his first Bristlemas.

Say anything, says Terence. They have to buy it.

Coffee, says baby B-B.

You'll get it, says Terence.

What about you? asks Dries.

A scooter, says Terence.

Baby B-B wishes he'd said a scooter as well.

Too late now.

They are lifted back into the orange back pack.

Dries and Gaius continue their journey through Brisbane.

Some time later they arrive at the Brain Institute.

It is closed.

There is note on the door.

Closed for Christmas. Gone to Port Stephens. Back 5th of Jan.

Getting Away With A Claw

Holly comes back from seeing the captain.

You can sit down again, she says. Nothing will happen. You'll escape with a warning.

What is the warning? asks Gaius.

Where do I start? says Holly. Firstly you stowed a child in an overhead locker.

He isn't a child, says Gaius. He's a representation.

That's right says Terence. I represent this parrot.

(Warning: This is not Christian doctrine).

Secondly, says Holly. By placing your luggage incorrectly, a breakage has occurred, of the child's cement finger.

Which proves my point, says Gaius. He is not a human person.

You needn't attempt to refute the accusations, says Holly. I told you, it's a warning.

My parrot didn't have a warning, says Terence.

Holly looks down at baby B-B, who is on Dries' lap, getting trauma counselling.

Thirdly, says Holly, you have carried an undeclared bird onto a plane. These are all serious offences, punishable by fines or imprisonment. However it is almost Christmas, and the captain is in a good mood. He thought the incident was funny. And he would like to meet you at the end of the flight to have his photo taken with the little baby Jesus.

Yee-ha! says Terence. And my parrot?

We'll see, says Holly. Now, wait here while I fetch the first aid kit. Your parrot is bleeding.

She goes off to fetch a first aid kit. She comes back.

There is really no need, says Gaius. I have glue packed somewhere.

No, says Holly. Let me bandage the parrot. Hm, it doesn't look like a real parrot.

All my parrots don't, says Terence. How will you stick his claw on?

I can't, says Holly. He will have to learn to get by without it. Perhaps he should have physio.

I should have physio, says Terence. I have to get by without my finger.

No, you don't, Terence, says Dries. And I want you to think about the effect of what you're saying on baby B-B.

Terence is stung. He has not thought about the effect of what he is saying on baby B-B.

What is it?

He looks at his best friend, the now clawless (on one foot) baby B-B.

He can have my finger, says Terence. And I'll have his claw. Would you like that, blood-brother?

His blood-brother is not sure he would like a cement finger.

But Terence is suddenly one hundred percent certain that he would like a claw.

.......

The flight has landed.

The captain is waiting at the exit.

Holly takes a photo of the captain with Terence.

The captain, unsure of the etiquette, (ought one to manhandle a baby Jesus?), has squatted to be on a level with Terence. Terence is sticking up his new claw in what looks like ( but isn't ) a blessing. For legal reasons, baby B-B is not in the photo at all.

A Valuable Lesson In Non-Regeneration

Everyone please remain calm, says the flight attendant, picking up the finger.

Is this yours? she asks Gaius.

No, says Gaius, waving his hands to demonstrate that he still has ten fingers.

Nor mine, says Dries, doing the same.

Would you mind vacating your seats for a moment, says the flight attendant (whose name is Holly).

Is there a problem? asks Gaius.

Yes, snaps Holly. There's blood dripping from the overhead locker.

Gaius stands up, nearly bumping his head. He can't move yet, because Dries hasn't.

Dries stands up. They both shuffle sideways, and stand in the aisle.

Holly reaches up and pulls down the orange backpack.

Plonk. It is now on Seat 13B.

It is howling.

Wait, no, that is Terence, who has lost a finger.

Oh my goodness! says Holly. It's a little baby Jesus, and it's finger's come off.

The other passengers crane their necks to see the little baby Jesus with no finger.

Let me see, says Gaius. Stop howling, Terence. It can't possibly hurt. It's nothing my Roman bull glue won't fix in a jiffy.

Terence stops howling.

We were wrestling, says Terence. I won.

Tic! Tic! Tic!

What's that ticking? says Holly.

It's not ticking, says Terence. It's Tic! Tic! Tic!

Endangered bird alarm call, says Gaius.

Don't tell me there's a BIRD in this back pack! says Holly.

Not a whole one, says Terence. One of his claws has come off.

Hence the bleeding, says Gaius.

I shall have to report this to the captain, says Holly. Don't sit down yet.

She goes to the front of the plane.

Dries looks into the depths of his back pack. Baby B-B is there, his claw has come off and he is casting around in the darkness.

Let me help you, says Dries. He pokes around in the bottom.

A passenger stands up and comes over.

Excuse me, I was just thinking, if you don't want that finger.....

My finger! cries Terence. I do want my finger!

I just thought, says the passenger. Sorry......

He goes back and sits down. Probably some sort of Catholic.

Dries finds the claw.

Eureka!

Baby B-B looks hopeful.

Now then, says Dries. Do you want to tell me about it?

We were finger-wrestling, says baby B-B. Finger v. claw. And I won.

We both won, says Terence. But I won the most because you're bleeding.

But you lost a finger, says baby B-B.

You lost a claw, says Terence.

I can grow another one, says baby B-B.

Can he? asks Terence.

No, says Gaius. He can't.

Bird Blood And Finger

Now they are flying to Queensland, on a plane.

Gaius and Dries are in seats 13A and 13B.

In the overhead locker, inside the orange back pack, are Terence and baby B-B.

The locker is shut. It is dark, not even faint light through the cracks.

The two bicycles, dismantled and in flat packs, are stored in the checked baggage compartment.

This place is the darkest.

In this dark place, Schopenhauer's bicycle, dismantled and flatpacked, has time to reflect on its situation.

If the purpose of life is not suffering, then existence is most ill adapted to its purpose.....

For it is absurd to suppose that the endless affliction we see every day should be accidental....

Misfortune is generally the rule......

I hope my San Marco saddle has been properly wrapped.....

It's awfully hot in this flat pack.....

Gaius's bicycle on the other hand, being insentient, is simply glad of the rest.

.......

In the overhead locker Terence and baby B-B are playing I spy.

Orange, says baby B-B.

Everything's black, says Terence.

That's right! says baby B-B. Your turn.

Orange, says Terence.

.........

Gaius and Dries are nutting out plans.

When we get there, says Gaius. We must reassemble our bicycles.

Okay, says Dries. Then what?

Ride directly to the Brain Institute, says Gaius. It's part of the Queensland University.

Good, says Dries. Then what?

Meet with Professor Marshall, and Dr Gagnon, says Gaius. They're the ones who made the ground breaking discovery.

What was it? asks Dries.

Previously, says Gaius, they showed that the mantis shrimp, or Gonodactylaceous falcetus, is able to reflect and detect circular polarising light, a rare ability in nature.

And now? asks Dries.

Their new study shows that the mantis shrimp uses circular polarisation to covertly advertise its presence to aggressive competitors, says Gaius.

It doesn't seem all that important, says Dries.

On the contrary, says Gaius. Circular polarised light travels in a spiral which humans can only detect with special lenses.

Still doesn't, says Dries. You are yet to convince me. Would you like a mint?

Thank you, says Gaius, accepting a mint.

The conversation turns to the refreshing nature of mints, TicTacs in particular.

Gaius is relieved, having not yet figured out the importance of mantis shrimps using circular polarised light either, although he suspects it has something to do with possible applications.

A loud cracking is heard in the overhead locker.

A flight attendant comes running and opens the locker.

Two drops of bird blood and a small cement finger drop out.

Distantly Related To Shrimps

Gaius and Dries are riding their bikes to the airport.

Terence and baby B-B are inside Dries' back pack.

On the way, Gaius and Dries exchange information on shrimp related subjects.

Gaius: So, you have an interest in vision and colour?

Dries: Mm, yes and no.

Gaius: What do you mean by that exactly?

Dries: It's this bicycle. Did Schopenhauer have such an interest?

Gaius: I believe he did. He was friendly with Goethe. Goethe encouraged him to write "On Vision and Colours".

Dries: That explains it then. For this bicycle, if I may speak freely, believes that colour is subjective, existing solely in the spectator's retina.

( Terence, inside the orange back pack: What about tomato sauce colour? That doesn't.

Baby B-B, also inside the orange back pack: No, that's not what it's for.

Terence: What what's for?

Baby B-B: A retina. Retinas are like magnets. They tell you where to go.

Terence: Mine don't. You're lucky.

Baby B-B: Mine don't either. Mango told me. That's how she got here.

Terence: Was Mango a parrot?

Baby B-B: Yes. A gold and blue parrot. She has Mag-R, in her retinas.

Terence: Like GPS?

Baby B-B: No, it's a protein. )

Gaius: So much for vision and colour. What do you know about shrimps?

Dries: Oh plenty. For instance in Belgium, in Oostduinkirke, old men still go shrimp fishing on horseback. It's a most ancient practice.

Gaius: How fascinating. Shrimp fishing on horseback. How does that work?

Dries: They use large Brabant draught horses, with wooden saddles. They ride into the sea up to the top of the legs of the horses, dragging shrimp nets behind them. They wear yellow rain slickers, tall rubber boots and sou'westers  and they usually get a good catch.

Gaius: That makes my heart glad. And do Belgians enjoy eating shrimps?

Dries: Sure they do. Our shrimp croquettes are the best. I could eat one right now.

Terence: Are we there yet?

They are. Here is the airport already.

Time flies when you exchange information on shrimp related subjects.........

The Science Of Blows

Dries returns with one of those squeezy tomato sauce bottles.

No! says Gaius. Tomatoes do not enter my house!

This is SAUCE, says Dries. There was no red food colouring.

I'll try it! says baby B-B.

Dries squirts tomato sauce into a cup of milk which was waiting.

Baby B-B drinks it. It's horrible.

Our milk is wrecked now, says Terence.

The purpose of existence is not to be happy, says Dries.

We know, says baby B-B.

So does the clam in the video that Gaius was watching.

SHE IS NOT TO BE HAPPY.

The mantis shrimp has dragged her into its lair.

But she has not died yet.

Wait! says the clam to the mean mantis shrimp who has just cracked her open.

What for? snaps the mean mantis shrimp.

This is a video, isn't it? says the clam. And it's finished. So can I leave now?

No, says the mantis shrimp. I didn't even know anyone was filming.

Well, they were, says the clam. It was a video for You tube.

What was it for? asks the mantis shrimp. His interest is piqued.

To record the strength of your blows, says the clam. Look what you've done here.

She wiggles her grey-white ragged edges.

Tach! That's NOTHING, says the mantis shrimp.

But how do you DO it so hard? asks the clam.

Double whammy, my dear, says the mantis shrimp. I whack you so hard that I generate cavitation bubbles between my appendage and your shell surface. The collapse of the bubbles produces measurable forces. So! It's like two hits with one blow. Now, let me just open you further.....

Wait! says the clam. Perhaps there will be another episode!

What about? asks the mantis shrimp, suspicious.

Don't you have special eyes? asks the clam.

She thinks she has heard it somewhere.

Actually yes, says the mantis shrimp. I have the most complex eyes of all animals.

There you are then, says the science-literate clam. The You tube world is your oyster.

I won't need YOU though, says the mantis shrimp, as he forces her open.

He enjoys her.

But his enjoyment
                            doesn't                                     outweigh                                                her pain.

Schopenhauer Likes Seafood

Will baby B-B say something?

What the Tic! He WILL say something.

And how is one supposed to recognise a Schopenhauerian aphorism? asks baby B-B.

But you know how it is when some naive person (or bird) mentions Schopenhauer (or Nietzsche).

Exactly. You hear what you want to.

Listen to that, says Gaius. The bird is grateful. It is trying to burble its thanks.

It wants something to eat, says Dries.

No. He doesn't, says Terence.

Yes I do, says baby B-B.

Well done, says Terence. Schopenhauer likes food. He likes seafood.

How do you know? asks baby B-B.

I went on a trip with him, says Terence. Him and Professor Freud. We played paintball.

So does aphorism mean seafood, or does it mean paintball? asks baby B-B.

It means any food, says Terence. What kind do you like?

I like marshmallows and coffee, says baby B-B. What kind do you like?

Red milk, says Terence.

I'd like to try that, says baby B-B.

Can we have some red milk? asks Terence.

Certainly, says Gaius. Dries, have a look in the fridge.

Dries looks in the fridge. It is full of carefully wrapped packages. Some are still moving.

Milk. But no red milk.

You have to MAKE it, says Terence.

Then I'll have to go to the shops, says Dries. How absurd this is becoming. Must it be red?

It's not red milk otherwise, says Terence.

Aphorism! says baby B-B.

Sort of, says Terence.

Dries goes off to the shops, on his bicycle, which once was Schopenhauer's, thinking:

Surely colour is merely subjective?

Meanwhile Gaius is googling the mantis shrimp, so that he will be up to date on the latest.

He finds a short video on Youtube.

Underwater, a mantis shrimp attacks a clam shell with a claw like a hammer.

Clack! Clack! Clack!

Each time the mantis shrimp whacks the clam, a bit breaks off the lip of the clam shell.

A rim of white flesh is exposed. The mantis shrimp whips its broken prey into its gaping black lair.

Fadeout.

Black Hair Orange Back Pack

Knock!

Gaius opens the door.

It's Dries, with his bicycle, his black hair, his orange back pack.

I was expecting Arthur, says Gaius. But do come in, Dries.

Dries wheels the bicycle into the passage, past various rock piles.

Mind the samples, says Gaius. I see you are still riding Schopenhauer's bicycle. How do you find it?

I get used to it, says Dries. I must always be on the alert.

Indeed, says Gaius. The extraneous Schopenhauerian aphorisms that keep popping into your head. I had the same trouble. How can I help you?

Dries unhitches his back pack. Drops it on the tiled floor.

Oof! says a cementy voice from the depths of the back pack.

Is that young Terence? says Gaius. Why is he here?

He is inseparable from the Bristlebird, says Dries. They are friends para siempre.

Ah! says Gaius. You have brought  me the Bristlebird! That is not what I asked. Why is nothing ever straightforward?

It is straightforward, says Dries. I am here in place of Arthur. I have an interest in shrimps, and in optics, colour and vision. And I am a trained trauma counsellor.

Jumping Jupiter! says Gaius. Those are fine attributes. And can you find me a knife when I need one?

Sure, says Dries. Finding a knife at short notice is a thing I excel at. Also pencils and tins with proper lids on.

This seems almost too good to be true, but Gaius is in a hurry to head off to Queensland.

Can we get out now? asks Terence. It's hot in this back pack.

Sure, says Dries. You and and baby B-B can get out for a breather.

Terence clambers out, dripping, followed by a hot baby B-B.

I'm glad to see you, little Bristlebird, says Gaius. I feel I have an obligation to teach you more skills of survival. Because, besides Tic! and Chack! you know nothing.

No, he doesn't, says Terence. He doesn't know nothing.

Anything, says Dries.

You speak excellent English for a Belgian, says Gaius.

Thank you, says Dries. And you are quite sharp for a Roman.

You're both idiots, says Terence. I said he doesn't know nothing, not anything.

You need to think about what you just said, says Dries.

Baby B-B contemplates intervening at some point........

Hello I'm Riding Uphill

I'm off, says Sweezus. Practice with the guys.

Ah yes, says Vello. Got a team up already?

Yep, says Sweezus. Me, Arthur, Pablo and Dries. Dries is pretty crap though. See you later.

He is just going out of the door when the phone rings.

It's Gaius.

Is Sweezus still there?

No, says Vello. He's left. Can I help you?

Probably not, says Gaius. Remember those bird calls? What were they?

Tic! Chack! and .....another one, says Vello, glancing at baby B-B.

But baby B-B, far from being alarmed, is pecking at Terence's splinter, while Terence is squirming.

Good, good, says Gaius. And do you remember the name of the website?

Gaius, says Vello. Do your own research. I'm busy.

Has Arthur turned up? asks Gaius.

No, says Vello.

.........

Gaius is at home. He has opened his notebook.

He has searched for and found a sharp pencil.

He has written ENDANGERED SPECIES: NOTES ON SURVIVAL: TIC! CHACK! 

That is all very well, thinks Gaius. But there is more to survival.....

He thinks about baby B-B and the dangers he faces.

He imagines a scenario in which no other bird is nearby.

A predator approaches. (A fox or a hawk)

There is no one to warn baby B-B.

And who is responsible? He.

He calls Arthur. No answer. He calls Pablo.

Hello, says Pablo. I'm riding uphill.

I'm planning on going to Queensland, says Gaius. To the Brain Institute, to research mantis shrimp optics, and I need Arthur with me. And I'd like the rest of you boys to keep an eye on the Bristlebird.....

I don't think so, says Pablo. The Tour Down Under is next month. There won't be enough time.

Nonsense, says Gaius. I'll be back before then. I'm also a rider.

I'll ask Arthur, says Pablo. 

Ask me what? asks Arthur.

Gaius wants you to go to Queensland, says Pablo. To study shrimp brain optics.

Lucky you, says Dries. I am very much into that sort of thing.

Yeah? says Sweezus. Since when, mate? 

Dries could go, says Arthur. A free trip to Queensland. 

What about the TEAM, guys? says Sweezus. Practice?

I need much practice, says Dries.

And he wants us to keep an eye on the Bristlebird, says Pablo. 

No way, says Sweezus. Tell him no. Shit, he still owes me money......

Dries can take the bird with him, says Arthur. It has to learn two more names.

And yeah, he can take Terence, says Sweezus. Because they're inseparable.

Are they? says Arthur. No one told me.

Yep, says Sweezus. So! Sorted! Arthur, you're a dead set genius!

Dries wonders how all this has happened......

In Love With His Poetry Brother

Gaius is pleased with the results of the bird call experiment.

He leans in towards baby B-B.

Well now, little fellow, says Gaius, when you hear an alarm call, you will know what to do.

Yeah, shit in my latte, mutters Sweezus. What'll I do with this coffee?

If you fear going bald, says Gaius, I would advise you to drink it.

Nonsense! says David. To drink it would give him the runs.

On the contrary, says Gaius. Bird dung is a well known remedy for the colic.

Not these days, says Vello. I'm surprised at you, Gaius. Would YOU drink it?

Certainly not, says Gaius. It's gone cold. And I must go home to write up the experiment. If any of you see Arthur, ask him to call me.

He heads for the door.

Leaving the bird? says Sweezus.

Yes, says Gaius. I have no need of him now. And he is perfectly capable of living independently.

Am I? says baby B-B. In that case....

Luckily Gaius has already walked through the door.

You TALKED! says Terence.

Course I did, says baby B-B. I'm at least four weeks old. And I can fly now. And I've travelled all over the world.

(He hasn't)

So have I, says Terence, sucking his finger.

(He has)

Have you got a splinter? asks baby B-B.

Yes, says Terence. I got it from your moustache.

Moustache? says baby B-B. Have I got one? What's it for?

Dancing, says Terence who once saw a black and white movie in which a tall man with a moustache was dancing.

Oh, says baby B-B.

Suddenly the world seems alien and cold.

Want to be my parrot? asks Terence. We can be brothers.

Arthur's my brother, says baby B-B.

You can have two brothers, says Terence. And I'm more reliable. Arthur's a poet.

I'm a poet, says baby B-B.

So am I, says Terence. We can be poetry brothers. You go first.

the world seems cold and alien (says baby B-B)
because I found out
that my moustache is for dancing
which is something
sparks do
when they're escaping
after burning the marshmallow

That's good, says Terence. Now me:

if you die now
I won't have a parrot
so don't die now
you are my fourth parrot
the first one was a pigeon
it died
the second one was a balloon
it shrivelled
the third one was a crane
passing the tower of loneliness
if you die now
I won't have a parrot
so don't die now.

I won't, says baby B-B, who has fallen in love with his poetry brother.

Buzz Cut And Sting Fright

Terence stares hard at baby B-B.

Baby B-B stares hard at Terence.

Terence is going to try and scare baby B-B.

Baby B-B is going to be scared.

At the same time, baby B-B must listen for and internalise a warning signal from Gaius.

He is ready.

Terence is not. Terence wants to scare baby B-B with a carpentry tool in the manner of his stepfather Saint Joseph.

But there are no carpentry tools in the office.

Gaius, Sweezus, Vello, David and baby B-B wait expectantly.

Now Terence has a brain wave. He points to the top of his head.

See this! he says to baby B-B. This is a buzz cut. I'm going to give you a buzz cut. Buzz cuts really HURT!

This would be a little more scary if Terence did have a buzz cut.

But Gaius, who only knows classical haircuts, and thinks Terence must have a buzz cut, shouts TIC!

Baby B-B jumps, but not convincingly.

Buzz cut! frowns Sweezus. You don't have a buzz cut.

No, he doesn't, says Vello. He wanted one back in Ferney, but I put my foot down.

It would have been permanent, says Sweezus.

That's what I said, says Vello.

Whereas I was prepared to let him have a buzz cut, says David.

He ruffles the little cement curls on Terence's hard cement head.

So, Terence doesn't have a buzz cut, says Gaius. Drat! This has ruined the experiment.

Try a different terrifier, says Vello.

And another warning, says David. Try Chack!

Terence looks at baby B-B, crestfallen.

Baby B-B stares back.

Terence notices that baby B-B is a strange sort of parrot. He has little bristles growing all round his beak. What are they for?

Don't take this the wrong way, parrot, says Terence, grabbing hold of a tiny sharp bristle.

Ouch!

CHACK! cries Gaius.

Baby B-B reacts in terror, as if he's been stung.

So does Terence.

Excellent! exclaims Gaius. Now for the crux of the experiment.

What is the crux of the experiment?

Will baby B-B understand?

Baby B-B flutters down to perch on the desk as though the danger is over.

Gaius, methodical experimenter, shouts again: CHACK!

Baby B-B flies up in feigned terror, leaving a small faecal remnant in Sweezus's latte.

Bravo! A superb touch of class!

What We Know Is Absolutely True

It is dark in the Velosophy office.

Sweezus, Arthur, Dries and Pablo have gone out drinking.

Baby B-B is alone.

He attempts to empty his mind of everything.

It is hard, as anyone will know who's tried it.

Let us peek inside the head of baby B-B.

blank sheet blank sheet blanksheetblabla......

Oh yes, baby B-B is good at anything he sets his mind to!

Night rolls on.

Ding! It's morning.

Sweezus is first to come into the office.

You still here?

No answer from baby B-B.

Sweezus sits down.

Footsteps are heard outside the office, coming up the stairs.

The door opens. It's Vello and David.

Here we are! says Vello. Everything all right?

Yeah, says Sweezus. It's been pretty quiet. How was Paris?

Ugh, says Vello. Hopeless.

Yeah but they came to agreement, says Sweezus. We heard it in the pub. Everyone was clapping and stuff.

Read the small print, says Vello. No commitment to science. Emissions from shipping and aviation to be exempted.

That's shithouse, says Sweezus. How was your flight?

Very good, says David. How about offering us a cup of coffee?

Yep, says Sweezus. I'll get 'em.

He leaves the office and heads for the Bean Bar.

Look here, says David. This must be Gaius's bird.

He pokes at baby B-B.

Leave it, says Vello. It's supposed to be some sort of tabula rasa.

Oops, says David. Forget I did that, little bird.

Baby B-B stares back at him blankly, like the proper little genius he is.

Stomp, stomp! And other, lighter footsteps.

It's Terence, followed by Gaius, and Sweezus with three skinny lattes.

Where's my parrot? asks Terence, looking round the office.

Here, says Sweezus, indicating baby B-B.

Very funny, says Gaius. I assume this is the baby Bristlebird? And you have taught him nothing?

Nothing, says Sweezus.

( Which is, as we know, strictly speaking, true ).

I haven't a great deal of time, says Gaius. I am on the trail of the wondrous mantis shrimp, which has an optical ability rare in nature. Would you mind looking up some bird alarm calls for me, on your computer?

Sweezus obliges. He comes up with Tic! and Chack! and Seeeet!

Very good, says Gaius. We'll try those. But first, someone needs to terrify him, so that he makes the proper association.

Me! Me! says Terence.

And this is how Terence and baby B-B make their first acquaintance.

The Blank Shit

Baby B-B can fly now.

He flies round the office.

He flies out of the open window.

He flies back inside.

It is difficult to stop baby B-B flying long enough to learn the names of Twenty Persons.

Stop flying for a minute, says Dries.

Flap-flap. Can't I learn the names while I'm flying? asks Baby B-B. What's the first one?

Océane, says Dries.

No one said they were French names, says baby B-B. That's extra.

Bet you can't even say it, says Arthur.

Océane, says baby B-B, with an impeccable accent.

Awesome, says Sweezus. Let me try. Océ-aaane.

Shut up, says Pablo. She was my beloved. To hear her name now makes me sad.

I don't want to make Pablo sad, says baby B-B. I'll just learn nineteen names. Give me the whole list.

Robbe, Maxime, Manon, Jens, Arnaud, Silke, Hanne, Anais, Niels, Dries, Maarten, Amandine, Lore, Stijn, Arno, Femke, Jorne, Fien, Luna, says Dries.

Robbe, Maxime, Manon, Jens, Arnaud, Silke, Hanne..... says baby B-B. how am I going so far?

Amazeballs! says Sweezus. That's seven.

Eight, says baby B-B.

He's counting Océane, says Dries.

Yes I am, says baby B-B. And you are insensitive.

She's my cousin, says Dries. Go on...

Anais, Niels, Marten, Amandine, Lore, Stijn, Arno,  Femke, Jorne, Fien, Luna, says baby B-B.

You left me out, says Dries.

On purpose, says baby B-B.

That is not satisfactory, says Dries.

It will have to be, says baby B-B, because from now I am becoming a blank shit.

Silence reigns, as everyone takes in the implication.

Quid Pro Quo Flying

Baby B-B is glad now that Arthur will not be his mother.

He would be a really crap mother.

He would make him learn lessons and beat him, if he got them wrong.

He decides it will be safer to be Arthur's not-too-close brother.

He hops up on Pablo's lap.

(Pablo still smells of coffee)

Get off me, says Pablo.

Come here little birdie, says Dries.

Thank you, says baby B-B. I have one friend at least.

Sure you do, says Dries. And how good it is you are here. And that you are fluent in English is very good also.

Actually, says Sweezus, it isn't. It's kind of a bummer.

How come? asks Arthur.

Gaius, says Sweezus. He said it was important the bird was a kind of blank sheet. He wants to teach it alarm calls.

Well anyway, it is good for me, says Dries. And for Arthur and Pablo, who signed a contract undertaking to teach it to recite the names of the Twenty Persons.

Me? says baby B-B. I don't even know Twenty Persons.

I have the list here, says Dries. Do you think you could learn it?

Easily, says baby B-B.

Excellent, says Dries. This will mean Arthur and Pablo are let off the hook.

But I won't, says baby B-B. Because, what's in it for me? It seems I have the upper hand here.

Arthur likes baby B-B's spirit.

What do you want? asks Arthur. Besides me to be your mother, which isn't going to happen.

I want to learn to fly, says baby B-B. Before tomorrow, when Terence gets here.

Okay, says Arthur. Then will you learn the name list?

Not only that, says baby B-B. I'll be a blank shit as well.

Blank sheet, says Arthur. Pronunciation.

Blank sheet, says baby B-B. Thanks bro.

........

The Flying Lesson.

Arthur takes baby B-B to the top of the stairs.

Ready, says Arthur.

Arthur lets go.

Baby B-B drops like a stone to the top riser.

I wasn't ready, says baby B-B. Let's do it again.

Your feathers are too short, says Arthur. Try these.

He takes two dirty white feathers from his shorts pocket.

But these feathers have not flown anywhere for ages.

And they're not flying anywhere now.

Because baby B-B, has spotted, at the bottom of the stairs, a new golden feather.

He flies down the stairs faultlessly, to gather it up.

Your Parents Nearly Killed Me

Pablo and Dries have done a few circuits.

They have had two skinny lattes in Norwood.

Now they are due to meet Sweezus and Arthur, in town.

Here they are at the bottom of the stairs to the Velosophy office.

Pablo: Watch out for that bird!

Dries: Oops. Sorry bird.

Baby B-B: That's okay. You missed me.

Dries: But what is this feather? Have I dislodged it?

Baby B-B: No that is a golden feather from Mango. I'm brown.

Pablo: Yes this little bird's brown. That can't be its feather.

Dries: Okay, okay.

Pablo (looking closer): It looks like that bird that Arthur left in the coffee cup, only bigger.

Baby B-B: Yes it's me.

Pablo: Dios mio!

Dries: Yes, it seems to have followed us here.

Baby B-B: You smell of coffee, like my mother.

Dries: Is Mango your mother?

Pablo: Golden feather, remember. She can't be.

Dries: I forgot. So who is your mother?

Baby B-B: Arthur. Please give me a lift up the stairs.

Dries picks up baby B-B. The three of them go up the stairs.

Knock.

Hi guys, says Sweezus. Whatcha got there?

Present for Arthur, says Dries.

Arthur looks at his present, which is baby B-B.

Ma-ma, says baby B-B.

You got here early, says Arthur.

I got lifted, says baby B-B. By Mango. Give me a hug.

Arthur doesn't do hugs. Not ever.

Ask for something else, says Arthur.

Coffee, says baby B-B.

There's no coffee either.

The thing is, says Arthur. I left you behind for a reason.

What is it? asks baby B-B.

I'm tied up, says Arthur. And I can't .....

Let me tell him, says Sweezus.

Sweezus bends down to eye level with baby B-B.

It's okay, says Sweezus. Let me tell you a story about your parents.

Uh? says baby B-B.

They were Mr and Mrs Bristlebird, says Sweezus, And they full on nearly killed me. Wrecked my t shirt as well. We had to wrap 'em up in it and stuff 'em into a box with a python. We sent it to this guy Ray, who's an exorcist, but they were Dead On Arrival. All there was was this egg, which was you.

Baby B-B likes this story. Who wouldn't?

And the first person I saw when I was born was Arthur, so now he's my mother, says baby B-B.

No he isn't, says Sweezus.

Sorry to contradict you, says baby B-B. He is.

He looks enquiringly at Arthur.

My mother, says Arthur, made me learn huge chunks of the Bible, and beat me when I made a mistake.

What a head fuck, says Sweezus.

Well actually, says baby B-B, I'm pretty grown up now.

Cool, says Sweezus. You can hang out with us till tomorrow. Then you can hook up with Terence. He knows you're coming.

Who's Terence? asks baby B-B.

My....er....little.....Spanish relative, says Sweezus. And he really likes birds.

Casting Off And Almost Arriving

Gaius, Vello, David and Terence are flying Qantas from Paris to Adelaide, arriving on Friday.

No one is sorry about leaving Paris.

I can't say I'm sorry, says Vello. We've done all we can.

We have, says David. Now it's up to the others.

Yes, says Vello. But they'll never reach an agreement.

Not by Friday, says David.

The two philosophers, one of whom has done nothing in Paris but wave a smouldering stick, and the other, no more than dousing the stick in a hotel toilet, nod sagely.

It'll be good to be home, says Vello.

I hear it's quite hot, says David. Forty degrees, high winds and bush fires

Damn! says Vello. What foul weather! Let's hope it improves.

One good thing though, observes David. No more Terence.

No more Terence, echoes Vello, leaning back in his airline seat as far as possible and trying to catch the eye of the drinks trolley steward, as the trolley rolls by.

Vello orders two half bottles of Aussie red wine.

Ahh! It's almost as good as the French stuff.

Terence is sitting with Gaius a few seats behind.

The person on the left side of Gaius is sleeping, so Gaius is chatting to Terence, as if he were older.

Of the mantis shrimp, says Gaius, I know very little at this stage.

You know it's very little, says Terence. That's something.

No, no, says Gaius. I KNOW very little. However, you are correct. Being a shrimp, I suspect it is little, in the sense of being quite small. However we must remember, size is relative.

I know, says Terence. Saint Joseph isn't a relative.

But what has that got to do with his size? asks Gaius.

Ask the Virgin, says Terence. She says it has everything to do with it.

Gaius, suspecting something unpleasant, changes the subject.

And what are you most looking forward to, Terence, when you get home?

I'm getting a parrot, says Terence. Sweezus told me.

A parrot, how nice, says Gaius. I too am expecting a bird on arrival. A new baby Bristlebird.

They can be friends, says Terence.

Not immediately, says Gaius. The baby Bristlebird must be kept free of all outside influence, until I have taught it to recognise and reproduce endangered native bird alarm signals.

But after, says Terence.

We shall see, says Gaius.

.....

At this very moment, the long anticipated baby B-B is being dropped off by Mango at the bottom of the stairs to the Velosophy office.

Here we are, says Mango. Good luck and all that.

You can't leave me here, says baby B-B. At least wait till I've met my mother.

Up you go, says Mango. Top of the stairs. and knock boldly. I'm off now.

Mango makes to fly off. Flutter-flutter.

Baby B-B can't even get up the first riser.

Does It Freak You Out Big Time Or What?

Sweezus has not told Arthur that baby B-B thinks he's his mother.

His reasoning goes thus:

It would fuck things up.

However, Belle can't keep it a secret.

She is telling him now.

Yes, says Belle. A macaw is bringing him, all the way from Sydney.

Arthur can't believe it. And doesn't.

Belle can see that Arthur doesn't believe it.

It's true, says Belle. Unni told Sweezie.

He didn't tell me, says Arthur.

He would have had his reasons, says Belle.

I know. He doesn't like birds, says Arthur. So tell me again why it's coming?

It thinks you're its mother, says Belle. Isn't that sweet? You'll have to make preparations.

Don't worry, I will, says Arthur.

He heads off to the Velosophy office.

Hi! says Sweezus. Not long now, and I can take time off.

Can we leave early? asks Arthur.

Not till Vello and David get back from Paris, says Sweezus. They're due back on Friday.

So's Gaius, says Arthur.

Oh yeah, Gaius. He's been trying to get you.

My phone's dead, says Arthur. What does he want?

Something about going to Queensland, says Sweezus. They've found this loony-toons shrimp there.

Too bad, says Arthur.

He wants you to call him, says Sweezus. By the way, he knows about your bird.

What about it? says Arthur. That I left it to die? That it didn't? That it thinks I'm its mother?

Shit! So you know, says Sweezus. Does that freak you out big time or what?

I'm working on it, says Arthur.

........

Meanwhile, Mango macaw is flying over Alawoona, with baby B-B.

A dead-looking town, a railway siding, a cemetery.

Should she land in the cemetery? Or should she keep going?

What's five minutes? And baby B-B might cheer up when he visits the cemetery.

Mango lands in the cemetery.

What's this place? asks baby B-B.

A cemetery, says Mango. For dead people.

More than that, says baby B-B, looking at the headstones. Eglintons, Fineys, Flints, Henschkes, and oh....here lies wee Elsie May Upeneet, 6 months......a baby.

Yes, says Mango. Puts it all in perspective. Some get eaten, some don't. Some get a headstone. You won't see a bird with a headstone.

This reasoning eludes baby B-B.

Still, he feels slightly more cheerful. He won't get a headstone.

Knew you'd cheer up, says Mango. Now let's get going. We'll be there in less than five hours.

........

Less than five hours.

This could be a problem.

They're not expected till Friday.

Not You, You Are Lucky

In Balranald, Mango takes baby B-B to look at frog structures.

Mango spots one, outside a Bunnings.

There's one! says Mango.

Was there ever a time when baby B-B would have laughed to see a large metal Southern Bell Frog, painted bright green, wheeling a wheelbarrow loaded with products, grinning, and wearing a hat?

No. Once he was too immature to even know it was meant to be funny. And now he has matured far too much to believe that it is.

It's all wrong, says baby B-B.

I see your point, says Mango. I don't particularly like anthropomorphic depictions either. But I thought you might. What's up?

You know, says baby B-B darkly.

Is it the chickens? asks Mango.

Why do they have to die? asks baby B-B

So people can eat them, says Mango.

Will people eat me? asks baby B-B.

No, not you, says Mango. You are lucky. You're a bristlebird. You are endangered.

Baby B-B does not like the sound of endangered. He frowns and his eyes fill with tears.

Cheer up, says Mango. We're only ten hours away from your mother.

What if he's forgotten all about me? asks baby B-B.

Curse that Alice! thinks Mango. She has awakened all sorts of anxieties in baby B-B.

Your mother is not like just any old mother, says Mango brightly. I heard Unni tell Joshy that he was a poet.

What's a poet? sniffs baby B-B.

It's a person who remembers things in a particular way, and later describes them, says Mango, ( probably thinking of Wordsworth).

I can do that, says baby B-B.

No you can't, says Mango. It takes years of practice.

I remember things in a particular way, says baby B-B. I remember the camp fires and the marshmallow I choked on, then I remember the cherries.

Yes, but that's not a POEM, says Mango. You have to transform it.

Baby B-B begins to extemporise:

I was born into trouble
left in a coffee cup by my mother
so I'm going back to my mother
he is a poet like me

it's a long journey with mango
she flies all the time
except when she stops to reward me

there is a campfire
sparks fly upwards
and smoke
I choke
on a flake of burnt sugar

when I learn to speak
mango gives me cherries
she turns violet
like a hypothetical macaw

we're on a bus
with people
who get paid to kill chickens.

when we get off the bus we cheer ourselves up
by looking at green painted frogs

I don't know about you mango
but it isn't enough
not enough
to make me feel cheerful


That's not bad, says Mango.

Life Death Motherhood And Comic Frogs

The bus stops in Griffith.

Lily, James and Faruk get off, and head out to Baiada Poultry, to process chickens (and be underpaid).

The bus continues westward to Balranald.

Baby B-B is bored. No one to talk to.

Mango is fluttering up and down the bus, talking first to Margaret and Alice, then Fred and Monty, and then the driver, Barry Wurst.

You got family in Balranald? asks Barry.

No, says Mango. You?

No, says Barry. I'm from Narrandera.

Nice town, says Mango.

Yeah, says Barry. Balranald's nice as well. They've got the first telephone to be installed in Australia.
They've got a mineral sands mine. And comic frog structures......

No kidding, says Mango. We'll have to stop off and take a look, before we head to Adelaide.

Adelaide, says Barry Wurst. Never been there. Is it nice?

Never been, says Mango. I'm taking baby B-B there to meet his mother.

Is he travelling all right? asks Barry Wurst.

Oh yes, he's a happy little fellow, says Mango. He's no trouble.

There is a sharp cry from the back.

Baby B-B, bored and restless, has attempted flying.

Flap-flop.

There is a special art to flying in a moving bus.

He spends the rest of the journey to Balranald being nursed by Alice.

At last the bus pulls up at the bus stop in Balranald.

Mango and baby B-B say goodbye to Alice, and the driver Barry Wurst.

You're very quiet, baby B-B, says Mango.

Lots to think about, says baby B-B.

Don't we all, says Mango. I'm thinking about looking for frog structures. Barry says they're very comical. But you? You look so serious.

Alice told me everything, says baby B-B.

I don't believe that for a minute, says Mango. Not everything. What did she tell you?

She told me why I couldn't fly, says baby B-B. She told me what chicken processing means. She told me that a man can't be my mother.

Nonsense, says Mango. You will fly. It was simply that it's harder inside an inertial frame of reference.

And life and death, and motherhood? asks baby B-B. Are they nonsense?

Of course, says Mango. Let's forget about silly Alice, and go and find those funny frogs.

Secret Light Communication

Here is a bus, travelling from Narrandera to Balranald, via Griffith.

Here is the driver, Barry Wurst.

Here are the passengers, Lily, James, Faruk, Margaret, Alice, Fred, Monty, Mango and baby B-B.

Mango and baby B-B are sitting near the back.

Comfy? asks Mango.

Eth, says baby B-B.

He is very comfy, because he has a whole seat to himself.

But he can't see through the window.

Lily leans across from her seat opposite.

Would your little baby like a cushion? asks Lily.

Yes, says Mango. Then he could see out of the window. Thanks.

Lily hands Mango a cushion.

Mango lifts baby B-B onto the cushion. Now he can see out of the window of the bus.

What can he see?

Australian scenery.

Going to Griffith? asks Lily.

No, says Mango. We're going to Balranald. What about you?

Me, Faruk and James are going to Griffith, says Lily. We've all got jobs at Baiada.

Baiada? What's Baiada? asks Mango.

Lily wishes now she hadn't said it.

Chickens, says Lily, vaguely.

Kickens, says baby B-B.

Oh how cute, says Lily. He's so little! And he can already say kickens.

Don't patronise him, says Mango. That wasn't very good. It's CHickens! CHickens!

CHickens, says baby B-B. What you do to CHickens?

He fixes Lily with a beady eye.

Um, says Lily. Processing mainly.

Luckily baby B-B is linguistically unable to pursue this further.

.......

Meanwhile in the Hotel le Montmartre, Paris, gendarme Pierre has come to a decision.

My apologies to you distinguished gentlemen, says Pierre. I have been given false information. You are free to go.

Thank you, says Gaius. But it is you who are in our apartment. You are free to go.

Of course, says Pierre. It has been an honour. I cannot wait to tell my wife.

Tell her what? asks Gaius.

That I have met you, says Pierre. David Hume, Carl Linnaeus, the great Voltaire, and you, Pliny the Elder. May I ask what you are working on at present?

Oh... err.... nothing much, says Gaius. Bird language skills, but not till I get home......

Know anything about the mantis shrimp? asks Pierre. That new research from Queensland?

Should I? asks Gaius. Well, yes, of course..... why are you asking?

Just that we policemen would be very interested in their means of secret light communication, says Pierre.

Hmm....hmm. says Gaius. Yes, top secret at the moment, but no doubt, in the future......

Okay, says Pierre. Just thought I'd ask. Au revoir, gentlemen.

He goes down the stairs.

What is it? says Gaius, turning to the others. What's so funny?

The secret light communication of the mantis shrimp, says Vello. Bet you can't wait to get home.

Vello is right.

Gaius is simply itching to get home.

Diverted From The Straight And Narrow

But what have I done? asks Carl Linnaeus, as gendarme Pierre gets out his handcuffs.

You have caused havoc all over Paris, says Pierre.

I have not, says Carl Linnaeus. I haven't left this room since the attacks.

That is not our information, says Pierre. You have been seen in many places, moaning and beating a drum.

Ah, says Gaius. This can be explained. What you saw was his wandering spirit.

Wandering spirit! cries Vello. What's this tosh?

Hear him out, says David, who has returned from extinguishing Vello's burning ember in the toilet.

This is a magical drum, says Linnaeus. By means of this drum my spirit wanders wherever it wishes, but I can hardly be blamed for what it does when it gets there.

Same, says Terence. My spirit is a parrot. He drops poo and feathers. I had to leave him behind.

He wasn't a parrot, says David. He was a crane.

Stick to the subject, snaps Vello. Why are we being pursued?

Pierre the gendarme is beginning to wonder: Who are these people?

He demands some identification.

Gaius goes first.

Alors! cries Pierre. You are Pliny the Elder!

David goes second.

David Hume. The famous Scottish empiricist! Mon dieu!

Carl Linnaeus goes third.

Hein? The Swedish father of taxonomy!

Vello goes last.

Merde! Voltaire! Pierre has been chasing the great French icon of the Enlightenment!

Pierre can't decide what to do.

........

Tied? asks baby B-B.

TIRED, says Mango. No, I'm not. Do I look tired?

No-o, says baby B-B. Fah?

Yes, it is still very far, says Mango. Perhaps we should look at catching a bus to Balranald. It might save us some time.

They flutter across to the Narrandera bus station. It is now early morning.

Balranald? says the ticket office person. The bus trip takes six hours.

I could fly it in six hours, says Mango.

Bus goes via Griffith, says the ticket office person.

Blow that, says Mango.

I suppose you go straight as the crow flies, says the ticket office person.

Yes, says Mango. I do. Allowing for wind currents. Thanks anyway. You have a fine town. We enjoyed your fountain.

Did you see our fig tree? asks the ticket office person. It's one hundred years old.

No, we didn't, says Mango.

Pity, says the ticket office person.

Pity, says baby B-B.

Is that your baby? asks the ticket office person. It doesn't look much like you.

No, says Mango. I'm giving him a lift to Adelaide, to rejoin his mother. He's grown up so much on this journey.

Don't they all, says the ticket office person. Well, have a safe trip. Sure you won't take the bus? Couple of seats going begging.

How nice people are in the country!

 Mango can't decide what to do.

Two Tales Of Two Wazzos

Gaius raises his arms as the gendarme bursts into the apartment.

The gendarme sniffs the air.

Je cherche la source de l'odeur, says the gendarme.

We seem to have run out of bathroom deodoriser, says Carl Linnaeus. And in any case.....it's not your business. Who are you?

Je m'appelle Pierre, says the gendarme.  Branche spéciale. Eh voila! J'ai succedé d'apprendre deux oiseaux!

Wazzos? says Terence.

Two birds, whispers David. He thinks he has apprehended two birds.

Not real ones, says Pierre. It is merely a saying. To kill two wazzos, with one Pierre.

Very funny, says David. And which of us are they?

This one, says Pierre, pointing at Vello, clutching the stick with the incriminating ember.

And this one, adds Pierre, glaring at Carl, who is dressed like a Sami, and holding a magical drum.

I admit it looks rather suspicious, says Gaius, but I can vouch for all of my friends here.

That is not enough, says Pierre. This one has terrorized the dignitaries and honoured guests of Paris COP21 with a burning coal stick.

And still would be! cries Vello. But the ringleaders have already  departed.

It is only your own Prime Minister you should be poking, says Pierre. Not other people's.

Vello just got carried away, says David. He won't do it again. I'm dousing his coal in the toilet.

He seizes the stick and the burning ember and heads for the toilet.

Give it a minute, says Carl.

.........

It is night time when Mango flies over Narrandera.

Flap...flap...flap

She has been flying for days now, and feels a bit tired.

She drops down in the Memorial Gardens, and comes to rest on a fountain.

Baby B-B wakes up in his leather contraption, hearing the trickle of water.

Sometimes dreams overlap us.

Sorry, Mango, says baby B-B.

What for dear? asks Mango.

Didn't I pee?

No dear, you didn't, this is a fountain. Were you dreaming?

Yes, I was dreaming of mother.

What is he like, your mother? I have not met him.

He has blue eyes and unruly hair.

Joshy has, too. He is like my mother.

But is Joshy your mother?

No. Just LIKE my mother. What do you think of the fountain?

Baby B-B has a look. It is very ornate, and appears to be made of ceramic.

It's the Hankinson Royal Doulton fountain, says Mango. There are only two in the world.

Where are dey? asks baby B-B.

One of them is right here! says Mango. Isn't that lucky.

Baby B-B can't help but wonder where the other one* might be.

* answer: Pakistan.

(not many people know that)

I'm In Here!

Mango flies through the late evening light in a westerly direction.

She is heading for Balranald, and making good time.

Flap...flap...flap.

Baby B-B dozes, safe in his leather contraption, dreaming of meeting his mother, and not saying Balls.

His dream goes like this:

Him (baby B-B): Ma-ma!

Arthur (his mother): Hello.

Him: I can talk now.

Arthur: Say something.

Him: Not balls.

Arthur: Good boy. What would you like most in the world?

Him: To snuggle down in your pocket.

Arthur: Okay. You can do that.

His mother (Arthur) gently places him (baby B-B) into his ( Arthur's) feather lined pocket. He (baby B-B), wriggles this way and that to avoid being poked by the needles.

Flap...flap...flap.....

Night falls.

........

Meanwhile, in Paris:

There is a knock on the door at the Hotel le Montmartre.

Knock-knock-knock. Rapid knocking.

Gaius opens the door.

Vite! Let us in, says Vello. The gendarmes are coming!

He and David dash in, followed by Terence.

What have you done? asks Gaius, aghast. What are you wearing? What's that smell?

Vello is dressed in bike shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. Common enough attire.

And on his feet, wheeled sneakers, that emit sparks of light when he moves.

The smell comes from a stick with a smouldering coal attached to the pointy end, which he seems not to know what to do with.

Put that stick down, says Gaius.

Can't, says Vello. Might start a fire.

Douse it in the toilet , says David, sensibly.

I need the toilet, says Terence.

Douse it first, says David. I hear someone running up the stairs.

Thud-thud-thud.

It's the sound of a policeman (or gendarme) running up the stairs.

Vello runs to the toilet. He tries to open the door.

Oh no! Carl Linnaeus is in there!

 I'm in here, says the muffled voice of Carl Linnaeus.

Damn!

There is a loud authoritarian knock on the door.

KNOCK!

Gaius has little choice but to open the door.

Levez vos bras! says the gendarme.

Famous Cricket Captains Waiting For Balls

Coota-munda, says baby B-B.

Pardon? says Mango. Did I just hear what you said?

Coota-munda, repeats baby B-B.

Four syllables! says Mango. And only one of them's wrong. You are a fast learner. Just for that, we'll touch down in Cootamundra. You'll like it. Want to know why?

For cherry? asks baby B-B.

For cherries, says Mango. No it isn't. It's for something much more important. Do you like cricket?

Do-no! says baby B-B.

Never mind, says Mango. You'll like it after this visit.

She zooms down to Jubilee Park, and lands gently on the head of Hugh Trumble.

This is the Captains Walk, says Mango. Look down. We are perched on a captain.

Baby B-B looks down. He sees a big nose poking out from a baggy green cap brim.

More captains over there, says Mango. Steve Waugh, Greg Chappell, Allan Border. Have you noticed something?

They don't have legs. But Baby B-B does not have a no-leg vocabulary.

Wah? asks baby B-B.

No legs, says Mango. Beats me how they could be proper captains. But now I'll show you the Captain of Captains.

She hops over to a full body sculpture of Sir Donald Bradman in his famous batting stance, bat and legs included.

This one was born in Cootamundra, says Mango. But that's not why he's the only one with legs. He truly was the best captain.

Baby B-B looks at Sir Donald Bradman, with his bat up, as if he's waiting for something.

He wonders what it can be.

If it was night time, says Mango, these captains would all be lit up. It would look pretty.

He way-ting? asks baby B-B.

No, he's not waiting for the lights to come on, baby B-B, says Mango. But that was an excellent suggestion. Shall I tell you what he's waiting for?

Eth, says baby B-B.

Balls, says Mango. He's waiting for balls.

Balls, says baby B-B.

Hee-hee, says Mango. That's right. But don't ever say that to your mother.

Time May Yet Defeat Us

Things which are happening.

Mango and baby B-B are flying towards Cootamundra.

This is three days ago now.

Gaius is in Paris at COP21, with Carl Linnaeus.

The spirit has gone out of Paris.

This is Paris, right now.

Vello, David and Terence are leaving Ferney (which is dull), and are heading for Paris. Terence has not been allowed to bring BANG ( his pet parrot, which is really a crane). He is sulking.

This is two days in the future.

Sweezus is thinking of how he and Arthur (and Dries and Pablo) might get out of Adelaide before Mango and baby B-B get there. The problem is, he ought to remain in the office until Vello and David come back.

This is right at this actual minute.

He thinks of a plan. Not a great one. He calls Gaius in Paris.

What is it? says Gaius. Have you forgotten the time zone?

Shit, sorry, says Sweezus. How's everything going?

Dreadful, says Gaius. We're not allowed to do anything. Costumes are suspect. The Climate Guardian Angels, lovely Australian girls, were stopped in the street by gendarmes.

Heavy, says Sweezus. By the way, you got anything for me? Anything that means travel?

A task? says Gaius. You didn't perform very well on the last one. The funnel web spider was eaten and the bristlebirds died. All due to your inattention.

The baby bird's on its way here, says Sweezus.

Is it? Good. Just make sure no one teaches it anything, until I get there.

When's that? asks Sweezus.

End of the week, says Gaius. Friday.

That's four days from now, (if we know when now is).

Sweezus leans back in his chair.

The phone rings.

No wait, that can't happen.

Two days later the phone rings.

It's Vello.

Hello? Sweezus?

Vello? Hello! What's up, boss?

We're heading for Paris, David and I. And young Terence, of course. How's everything in the office?

Cool, says Sweezus. Gaius is in Paris. He says everything's in lockdown. Cops everywhere. You can't do anything.

We'll see about that! says Vello.

Got any jobs for me that ...er...involve travel? says Sweezus. There's not much happening here.

Travel? says Vello. No, no, just sit tight till we get home. Should be....um...sometime next Friday. By the way, Terence is sulking. We made him leave his pet crane in Ferney.

Tell him there's a new baby bird coming, says Sweezus. In six days. He'll like that.

Wonderful, says Vello. That'll cheer him up. Goodbye now.

Damn. Stuck in Adelaide till at least Friday.

Still got two days after that though........

Turning Hypothetical With Cherries

You're heartless too, says Belle. You only think of yourself.

No way! says Sweezus.

He is silent for a second, thinking.

Yeah well, the baby bird might still be alive. You even said so.

You can't have it both ways, says Belle. Either it was a sacrifice Arthur made for you, or it wasn't. I'm calling Unni. She might know what happened.

She calls Unni.

Hi Belle! says Unni. I was meaning to call you.

About that baby bird? How is it? I heard Arthur....um..... left it behind.

Yes, what a shit head. He left it in a coffee cup at the airport. But I rescued it and it's okay. I took it to Joshy, this guy I know who's a bird whisperer.

Fantastic, says Belle. So the story has a happy ending.

It's not over, says Unni. Josh has this macaw called Mango. He's taught her free flying.

Oh, lovely, says Belle, and has she adopted the baby?

Er no, says Unni. She's actually flying the baby over to Adelaide, to return him to Arthur.

Arthur! What for! asks Belle.

Well we found out that the baby thinks Arthur is his mother, says Unni. It's called imprinting. They fix on the first thing they see.

Ha ha, that's HILARIOUS! says Belle. When are they arriving?

It should take at least eight days, says Unni. Macaws fly at about 50 kilometres per hour.

She's actually flying! says Belle That is amazing! How's she carrying the baby?

In a leather contraption, says Unni. He'll be quite safe. We've given Mango the address of the Velosophy office. So if you guys could look out for them.....

Sure, says Belle. Thanks for the heads up. See you, Unni! Bye!

Guess what? says Belle.

I heard, says Sweezus.

You didn't hear the funniest bit, says Belle. The baby thinks Arthur's his mother.

That's not funny, says Sweezus. When are they coming?

Eight days, says Belle.

Sweezus thinks: Cool. Eight days to come up with a reason for us not to be here.

.........

Flap...flap...flap.

We're making good time, says Mango. That's because of not stopping. Look down, baby B-B.

Baby B-B looks down.

That's Harden. Used to be a big railway town.

Way-way, says baby B-B.

Town, says Mango. Way way town.

Way way town, says baby B-B.

 Remarkable! Town is not easy to say (it has three consonants)

I know I said I wasn't stopping, says Mango. But you deserve a reward.

Not marshmallow again, hopes baby B-B.

Not marshmallow, says Mango. Cherries. They grow cherries down there.

She lands in a cherry orchard in Harden.

Now Mango and baby B-B are munching on cherries. Red juice runs down the golden breast feathers of Mango.

Look at me, says Mango, I've turned into a hypothetical.

Wat-sat? asks baby B-B ( another first, a double syllable question!)

I knew you'd ask, says Mango. We macaws lay claim to a number of hypothetical extinct species that naturalists think must have existed. One is the Violet Macaw. That's who I look like. It'll wash off though. If I was a real one, it wouldn't.

Baby B-B wonders if he looks like a Violet baby. (He doesn't).

Shall we get moving? says Mango. Hop in to your leather contraption.

Baby B-B hops in.

We'll be there in five days at this rate, says Mango.

FIVE days? But Belle told Sweezus EIGHT.

Let's hope there is a reason for this discrepancy.

Two Ways Of Viewing The Ultimate Sacrifice

Mango is about to take off from Boorowa.

She takes a last look at the roadside painting.

Superb Parrots are greedy, says Mango. This one is thin, so you get the wrong impression.

Wah? asks baby B-B.

I'll tell you a story, says Mango. Before we take off. Know why I'm going to tell you?

Eh! Wah? says baby B-B.

So this THIN parrot hears it, says Mango.

Even baby B-B knows the painted parrot won't hear it. But he would like to hear it.

Once, says Mango, I think it was 2008, there was a grain spill on the road in Boorowa. And the Superb Parrots came down from the trees and stuffed themselves silly. They were so full they couldn't fly up when a truck or a car came. Result. They all got run over. Ha ha.

The Superb Parrot remains superbly indifferent to this story.

It's just an old story.

Baby B-B hears a truck coming. He hopes Mango takes off pretty soon.

Mango takes off, with scarcely a wink at the thin painted parrot.

Goodbye Boorowa.

Flap...flap...flap.

As baby B-B rocks in the air in his leather contraption, he reviews what he has learned so far.

1. He can now do two impressions ( a camera, a cash register)
2: He knows what a PUN is ( it's a dangerous predator)
3: He knows what a church is for (sheep)
4; He knows how easily you can choke on a marshmallow
5: He knows how Superb Parrots die

He practises ( under his breath ) his mobile phone impression ( bliiiing! no, that's not right....)

The afternoon sun is warm. The wheat fields below them send up heady wheat-perfumed projections.

Let us leave them flying west for a while.......

Let's arrive at their destination, several days before they do.

Let's see what has happened to Arthur and Pablo and Dries.

Have they resolved their dilemma?

Yeah, says Sweezus. It was easy. It was basic logic.

Is that right? says Belle. I don't follow. Explain it to me again.

Dries paid Arthur four hundred euro for the bicycle, says Sweezus.

It wasn't Arthur's bicycle, says Belle.

I know, says Sweezus. That's why Dries didn't have to pay him real money. Arthur gets to keep the four hundred euro that he got from the Twenty Persons Committee, in lieu.

Something's wrong with that, says Belle. But if Dries is happy.....

He's stoked, says Sweezus. He gets to ride in the Tour Down Under.

He's not that good a rider, says Belle.

Yeah well, I'm kind of doing this for Arthur, says Sweezus. Because he left that baby Bristlebird to die in the coffee cup for my sake.

Heartless, says Belle, frowning. That poor little baby.

No way heartless! says Sweezus. He did it for ME. I was blown away!

Sheep Worship: A Pun In There Somewhere

Flap...flap...flap.

Mango flies over Laggan, a small village.

Lights, says Mango. See that. That must be Laggan.

Baby B-B peers out through gold feathers and into the darkness.

Laggan looks tiny. He hopes they don't land there.

I'm not going to land there, says Mango. I wouldn't. Want to know why? Course you do.

Flap...flap...flap.

Why doesn't she tell him?

Eh? squeaks baby B-B.

Ask me WHY, says Mango.

Wah? says baby B-B.

Good try, says Mango. It's time you learned another impression. I do mobile phones.

Wah? says baby B-B.

No, wait till I do it, says Mango. Briiiing! Briiiing! Of course there are many different ring tones. But I prefer that one.

Baby B-B is confused. Why aren't they stopping in Laggan?

He determines to practice his ring tones. Maybe then he'll find out.

Flap...flap...flap.

The moon has gone now.

The sky is rose pink at the edges.

Mango flies steadily towards Boorowa.

Baby B-B, safe in his leather contraption, is saying over and over: Biiing! Biiing!

What's that? says Mango. A cash register?

Baby B-B falls silent. Mobile phones are too hard.

I'm going to land in Boorowa, says Mango. I want your opinion. Up to you to let me know what it is.

She lands on a painted sign at the side of the road just outside Boorowa.

The dawn light reveals it.

WELCOME TO BOOROWA

Superb Parrots, Superb Country.

And a painted Superb Parrot, in all its glory. (Blue, green, red, yellow.)

Look at that? says Mango. What do you think?

Baby B-B can't see, at that angle.

He looks up into the big beady eyes of Mango, with his small beady eyes.

Silent messages pass between them.

You are more beautiful!

Of course. You are a good little learner.

Now will you tell me why we weren't stopping in Laggan?

Has that been worrying you, all this time?

Yes, is it something terrible? Like a predator?

No, nothing like that. Goodness me, I'd almost forgotten. It's not even important.

It is to me.

Okay. We didn't stop because it's weird there. There's a church....

What's a church, Mango?

I haven't finished, baby B-B. A church is a place of worship.

Worship.

Yes, and this church has been converted into a shearing shed. For shearing sheep.

Sheep!

Yes there's a pun in there somewhere. Shall we be going?

Baby B-B nods. There's a PUN back there, in Laggan. And Mango has saved them, by not stopping.

The Moon And The Map Of A Hole

The smoke from the camp fire rises, drifting across the high moon.

The campers are engaged in a dietary conversation.

Beta carotene, says one of the campers. That would be carrots.

Actually, says Mango, on second thoughts, I'm not used to carrots. Have you got any seeds?

I have some sunflower seeds, says the motherly camper.

She opens a tin.

Mango picks out one or two.

Thanks, says Mango. I like to eat seeds in the wild. And nuts, fruits and berries. Of course some of them turn out to be toxic. It's not funny. Then I have to eat clay.

Clay! says a five year old camper. I used to eat clay. Mum said not to.

I'm a Macaw, says Mango. We are different from humans. Look at my toes.

It's true. Her first and fourth toes point backwards.

Wow, says the five year old camper. Does that mean you can walk backwards?

I suppose so, says Mango. Never tried. Unless you count dancing. And there I admit, I'm out of practice. What do you think of my feathers?

Turn around, says a camper. I like the blue ones.

Spread them, says another.

How rude. Whatever for?

Mango straightens and realises her golden breast feathers are sticky.

I'm sticky, says Mango. Anyone got a wipe?

I have, says the motherly camper. ( She has everything. She even had carrots.)

Oh dear, says the motherly camper. Your baby's been sick.

It's true baby B-B, ignored for too long, has choked on the burnt flakes of marshmallow and thrown up in spectacular fashion.

The motherly camper smells faintly of coffee. As he is wiped, baby B-B begins to feel better.

Ma-ma, squeaks baby B-B. Ker-lick-tick, he adds bravely.

Oh, how CUTE! says the motherly camper. He sounds just like a camera.

I taught him that. Well, better be off now, says Mango. Straight on till morning!

Surely you're not flying all through the night? says a camper.

Oh yes, says Mango. The moon will light our way. Anyone got a map?

I have a map of the whole of Australia, says a dad camper.

Never mind, says Mango. Just tell me which way is west.

That way, says the dad camper, pointing towards Laggan.

Mango tightens the leather contraption in which baby B-B is resting, recovering, and thinking of Arthur, his blue-eyed mother.

Mango takes off.

Her shadow blocks the moon briefly.

Tch! says Mango, when they are well out of earshot of the campers.

I think we can do without a map of the Hole of Australia!

A Splendid Impression Of A Camera

Mango is talking to a small group of children on the ferry.

We're on our way to Adelaide, says Mango. Yes, flying.

It's a long way, says a kid. We went to Adelaide. I was sick in the back of dad's car.

The ferry smells of metal.

Baby B-B feels sick in the leather contraption, under Mango's gold feathers.

Is he your baby? asks another kid.

No, not my baby. He's a Bristlebird. I'm a Macaw. That's why I'm the one doing the talking. I also do impressions. Want me to do one?

Yes! Yes! cry the children.

Mango does her impression of the sound of a camera. Ker-lick-tick!

That's good, says the kid who was sick in the back of dad's car.

Well, got to be going! says Mango. Don't suppose you could point me in a westerly direction?

This does not augur well for the rest of the journey.

Luckily baby B-B is too young to realise that Mango does not have an unerring sense of direction.

......

Mango flies over Camden. A historic town.

Look down there, says Mango. That's Camden, that is. Know how I know?

Ker-lick-tick! says baby B-B, who has been practising quietly.

That's right! I've seen an aerial photo. Mind you they all look the same..... But hey hey hey! That was a splendid impression!

Baby B-B is only a few hours old. It is quite remarkable that he has already learned to do an impression.

He deserves a reward.

I'll stop when we get to some smoke, says Mango. Smoke, do you know what that means? No, you don't. Smoke means a camp fire and a camp fire means marshmallows.

Ma-ma, says baby B-B.

Sweetness, says Mango.

It is unclear whether this is an endearment or further enlightenment as to the nature of marshmallows.

It is getting late now. The moon gleams on the darkening landscape.

Flap..flap..flap. Over Lake Burragorang.

Smoke! Mango lands next to a camp fire in a camp site near Wombeyan limestone caves.

People are laughing, and toasting marshmallows.

Hello all, says Mango. Got a spare marshmallow for my baby? Of course, being a Macaw, I don't want one.

A little kid gives Mango a burnt one.

Here you are, says Mango. Get your beak into that, little chickadee. Mm-mm.

What about you, you dear thoughtful bird? asks a motherly person. What do you eat?

Oh, anything rich in beta carotene, says Mango.

Mango And Baby B-B

So what's this crisis? asks Sweezus. The Bristlebirds are cactus?

No, that crisis was resolved, says Dries. They left behind a baby. And that was a good thing.

A good thing? Yeah, right. Sweezus waits to hear why.

Dries continues:

A good thing because with the baby, Arthur and Pablo could fulfil their contract.

No kidding! sniggers Sweezus. These guys signed a contract?

Yes, says Dries. So then they are keeping the four hundred euro. But in Sydney the baby bird is suddenly left behind by a crazy decision of Arthur. So I think they are not entitled to be keeping the four hundred euro.

Arthur, says Belle, where did you leave it?

I've still got most of it, says Arthur.

Most of it? says Belle. The baby bird is in pieces?

No, the money, says Arthur. The baby bird's at the bottom of a coffee cup.

So it could still be alive, says Belle.

It could be, says Arthur.

........

In fact, at this minute, back in Sydney, baby Bristlebird is commencing a journey.

See ya, Mango, says Josh. Here's the address. Don't lose it.

No worries, says Mango. See you in about sixteen days.

No need to knock yourself out, Mango, says Josh.

No worries, Joshy, says Mango.

Mango flies up and over the front fence of Josh's garden, with baby Bristlebird in some sort of leather contraption, strapped under her golden breast feathers.

You're trusting, says Unni.

If you love someone, let them go, says Josh. She'll be back. Macaws are heaps smart. Smart as a five year old human.

Really? That smart! says Unni.

Mango flies over Sydney Harbour.

See that bridge? says Mango.

No-o, squeaks baby B-B.

Stick your head out, says Mango. That thing, that's a bridge. Want to fly under it?

No-o! squeaks baby B-B.

Mango flies under it.

Baby B-B didn't like that, not even one tiny bit.

He wants some coffee.

Ma-ma! says baby B-B. Ma-ma!

Arthur, says Mango. You want Arthur. Say ARTHUR.

Arh! says baby B-B. But he still wants coffee.

This trip could take eight days, says Mango, chattily. If I don't stop, that is. But I always stop if I see a nice group of people.

She flies over a harbour side restaurant. Baby B-B smells coffee.

Ma-ma! says baby B-B.

Oh, you want coffee? says Mango. It's bad for you. I'm not stopping. Look, a ferry! Want to land on it?

No-o! squeaks baby B-B.

Mango lands on a stinky old ferry.

What a nightmare this trip's going to be!

Bird Whisperer

There are no insects in the airport. Not ones you might notice, or catch.

Unni buys a seeded roll at Pie Face, and picks a few seeds from the top.

Try this, baby, she says placing a seed on the tip of her finger.

The baby Bristlebird turns its small head away.

A tear plops from his eye into Unni's hand and trickles down to her elbow.

What? says Unni sharply.

She has no patience with precious behaviour.

The baby Bristlebird has no patience with humans except for his mother.

Where is she?

He looks around the airport in panic. His little heart begins to beat faster.

Damn. But wait a minute, Unni has a brainwave. Why not call Josh? He lives in Sydney.

She calls him, and half an hour later she knocks on the door of his house.

Josh opens the door, with a mango-coloured macaw on his shoulder.

This is Mango, says Josh. Where's the patient?

Here, says Unni, thrusting baby Bristlebird forward.

Mango has a good squiz at the baby.

Ha ha, laughs Josh. Having a good squiz are you, Mango?

Eh-eh, squawks Mango.

Josh is a Bird Whisperer, as you may have gathered.

First though, he offers Unni a cup of green tea.

While they are drinking the tea, Mango tries to get through to the baby.

M-A-N-G-O, says Mango, in Macaw.

B-B, says baby Bristlebird, in Bristlebird.

A kind of awkward rapport develops.

Ma-Ma? asks Mango.  (She is asking B-B about his mother.)

Ma, says B-B. ( He is replying.)

From this Mango intuits that the baby is missing its mother.

Josh comes over.

What do we reckon? asks Josh.

Give me time, whispers Mango. So far I've established that the B-B is missing its mother. As to who that is, I have no idea yet.

Josh goes back to where Unni, is drinking the last drops of green tea.

It's missing its mother, says Josh.

I suppose that's pretty obvious, says Unni. Both parents died before it hatched out of its egg.

Who did it first lay eyes on? asks Josh. Was it you?

No, not me, says Unni. It was Arthur.

Then Arthur's his mother, says Josh. You should see if Arthur is willing to raise him.

Mango is pleased that the mother's identity is established.

Ma-Ma, A-R-T-H-U-R, says Mango, to B-B.

But B-B doesn't make the connections.

Okay, thanks, says Unni. So.... is it legal to send Bristlebirds interstate?

Birds go wherever, says Josh. Where's this Arthur?

Adelaide, says Unni.

At least he should be by now.

And he is.

The plane has landed in Adelaide.

Sweezus is waiting, with Belle.

Guys! says Sweezus.

Arthur, Pablo, says Belle, welcome home. And you must be Dries. How nice to meet you. Am I right you're from Belgium?

Yes, says Dries. I am. We are in the middle of a crisis.

Yeah, it's pretty shit, says Sweezus.

Yes, it's awful, says Belle.

How do you know? asks Arthur.

Its all over the news, says Belle. Brussels is in lockdown.

Ha ha, laughs Pablo.

Pablo! says Belle.

Wrong crisis, says Pablo. This is an Arthur-driven crisis. Involving a moral dilemma, a difficult decision, and the ultimate sacrifice of a newly hatched bird.

And a broken contract, adds Dries.

Everyone frowns and looks serious.

Your Mother Has Left You In a Coffee Cup

The plane has departed for Adelaide.

Unni walks back through the airport, thinking of catching a train.

As she passes the Coffee Club, she sees a security guard placing flags round a table.

It's the table where, earlier, she, Arthur, Pablo and Dries had been drinking their coffee.

It might be a bomb threat. She goes up to the guard.

I was just sitting there! says Unni.

Oh, were you? says the guard. Did you by any chance place a dead bird in a coffee cup?

No, says Unni. But I know who might have. Why?

Because there is a dead bird in this coffee cup, says the guard. Can you identify it?

He holds out the cup.

A bedraggled baby Bristlebird is stretched out on the bottom, not breathing.

I know it, says Unni. It's only just hatched. I knew Arth.... my friend shouldn't have given it coffee.

Your friend gave a newly hatched bird coffee! says the guard. I must say, milk would have been better. I wouldn't be surprised if this little tacker's gone into cardiac arrest.

Can we get him out of the coffee cup? asks Unni.

Sure, says the guard, who likes birds, and hates to see dead ones.

The guard tips the baby Bristlebird onto the table.

A crowd has gathered.

Is it a bomb threat? asks someone. Should we be running?

It's a fake bird, says another. I think it's ticking!

Please move on, says the guard. It's a small medical emergency. If you want to help, go and fetch a defibrillator. There's one on the wall there.

The crowd parts so that one of them can run to the wall and fetch the defibrillator.

It's too big, say Unni, when the defibrillator is brought to the table.

Yes it is, says the guard. I should have known. I'm a bit flustered. Time is crucial in cardiac arrest cases.

Look, it's moving, says a woman.

So it is. All it needed was to be taken out of the coffee cup.

Hic squaw wee! The baby Bristlebird looks round for his mother. Where is she?

She had deep blue eyes and a pocket full of feathers. She gave him a very strong stimulant. He can still smell it.

( The baby Bristlebird has taken Arthur for its mother, in a natural process which biologists call IMPRINTING.)

Give him to me, says Unni.

Okay, says the guard. Here he is. All's well that ends well.

He removes the flags from round the table and returns the too-big defibrillator.

Unni cups the baby Bristlebird in her hand and strokes it gently.

What am I going to do with you, baby?

The baby Bristlebird glares at her with the same steely eyes as its parents.

NOTHING, LADY. YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER.

Red Alert, Not Saying Why

Sydney Airport.

Arthur's phone rings.

It's Sweezus.

Miraculously, Arthur's battery is not flat.

Hello, says Arthur. We're just boarding.

For? says Sweezus.

Adelaide, says Arthur. Me and Pablo, and this other guy called Dries.

Does he ride? asks Sweezus. ( He means a bicycle)

Yes, says Arthur. Schopenhauer's bike.

Cool! says Sweezus. I'm getting a team up for the Tour Down Under.

That's a long time off, says Arthur.

Yep, says Sweezus. Organised as. So how come you're heading home early? Thought you were heading up to Ray's place.

Birds died, says Arthur. So we don't have to.

Excellent, says Sweezus. Bad luck, for Gaius though.

Well, not entirely, says Arthur.

How come? asks Sweezus.

Uh-oh! Red alert.

Nothing, says Arthur. Got to board now. See you shortly.

Click.

Arthur, Pablo and  Dries say goodbye to Unni.

Unni says goodbye to them.

Baggage is being loaded.

Where's the baby?

.........

On the flight.

Dries: It was lucky no one noticed.

Arthur: Mm.

Dries: What does Mm mean?

Pablo: It means he's not saying why it isn't lucky no one noticed.

Dries: Is that correct?

Arthur: Mm.

Dries: Turn out your pockets.

Arthur turns out his pockets.

Dirty Russian feathers, knitting needles that were used as props in a production, bun crumbs, tiny bits of egg shell.

Dries: Where's the baby?

Arthur: Not here. I had to make a hard decision.

........

Well, what would you do?

Your cycling team leader will go ballistic if you rock up with the baby of the two birds that he is obviously delighted are no longer in this world to torment him.

Airport Baby With Potential

Sydney Airport. Coffee Club.

How do we know the parent birds are dead? What proof have we? asks Dries.

I told you, says Unni. And Dad told me.

Did you see the bodies? asks Dries, who we will remember is a seasoned trauma counsellor.

No, says Unni. When I got the box back, it was empty.

But for the egg, says Dries.

No, the egg was in Dad's hand, says Unni.

I think, says Dries, that the Twenty Persons Committee has every right to ask for their money back.

Did you hear that? says Arthur.

Yes, says Pablo. They want their money back.

Without a death certificate, says Arthur.

All right, says Dries. Perhaps we can resolve this in some other way.

Arthur feels the egg trembling in his pocket.

I think it's hatching, says Arthur. He lifts it out, and places it on the table.

The egg trembles violently. It was nice in Arthur's pocket. It could feel Arthur's warm leg. And something that felt pleasantly soft and at the same time scratchy. And something else, that was sharp and pointy, and metallic. Of course, the egg would not have used these adjectives.

Look! says Unni. A little hole!

Of course, we've all seen a little hole appearing.

It's getting bigger!

Yes, we've all seen that before. Get to the last part.

They watch, and drink their coffee.

The egg cracks open and a little baby Bristlebird's beak pokes out.

No, not that part. The part when it emerges fully!

At last! Here it is, in its entirety!

Oh how cute! says Unni. I wonder if they'll let you take it on the plane.

Beep! Imagine you have just come out into the world expecting to be in an ovoid ground nest, somewhere in a forest, with a mummy and a daddy who look a lot like you except with better feathers, and who have brought you food.....

........and instead, what you are faced with is an existential question.

Will they let me on the plane?

The baby's little face falls. It looks at Arthur, with its newly opened eyes.

Arthur is not cold hearted. He dips his finger in his coffee and holds his wet finger to the baby's beak.

The baby sucks up his first taste of coffee.

Hic squaw wee!

Already with the language skills! It is obvious the baby has a great deal of potential.

Those That Tremble As If They Were Mad

Mermaids? says Carl Linnaeus. But mermaids are fabled creatures.

Wait, says Hui Zhong. The next category is:

6. FABULOUS ONES

There you are, says Gaius. Could there be an overlap?

Overlap? says Carl. Oh I see, overlap. As in female top overlaps fishy bottom.

Exactly, says Gaius. So one can be both a mermaid, and a fabulous one.

Then why have two categories? asks the father of modern taxonomy.

You will see when I tell you the remaining eight categories, says Hui Zhong,

Mummy, says Mai-Mai, holding up her System of Vegetables. What does this look like?

A mole, says Hui Zhong, without hesitation.

It was better when it was an elephant, says Mai-Mai sadly.

Never mind, says her mummy. Why not give it a horn?

A horn? splutters Carl Linnaeus. What will that make it? A molicorn?

Mai-Mai laughs at the very idea of a molicorn.

Ah, here we are, says Hui Zhong, who has consulted her smart phone.

7. STRAY DOGS
8. THOSE THAT ARE INCLUDED IN THIS CLASSIFICATION
9. THOSE THAT TREMBLE AS IF THEY WERE MAD

I'm beginning to admire this system of classification, says Carl Linnaeus. Many animals tremble as if they were mad.

Indeed, says Gaius. I have often observed it.

( He recalls several instances where he has observed it. )

Hui Zhong continues:

10. INNUMERABLE ONES
11. THOSE DRAWN WITH A FINE CAMEL HAIR BRUSH

Mummy, I need a fine camel hair brush, says Mai-Mai.

No, Mai-Mai, says her mother. You must be satisfied with your new pencils.

12. ET CETERA

Et cetera! says Carl Linnaeus. Nothing is left out!

13. THOSE THAT HAVE JUST BROKEN THE FLOWER VASE

My personal favourite, says Hui Zhong.

Our cat did that once, says Mai-Mai

14. THOSE THAT AT A DISTANCE RESEMBLE FLIES

Most comprehensive, says Gaius.

.........

In Sydney Airport, at a distance from those you are meeting, flies are what they resemble.

And you resemble a fly to them too, if they're not short sighted.

Arthur and Pablo spot Unni just as she spots them.

Arthur, Pablo! cries Unni. It's so nice to see you!

Hello, Unni, says Pablo. This is Dries. He's come with us. He's one of the Twenty Persons.

I know all about the Twenty Persons, says Unni. Dad told me. I've brought you the egg.

This is wrong, says Dries. We are not having the egg. We are going to meet with your father and begin instructing the Bristlebirds.

So you don't know, says Unni.

That they're dead? guesses Arthur.

Yes, says Unni. This egg is the only thing we've got now. Dad wants you guys to have it. Keep it warm. It'll hatch soon.

She shoves it at Arthur.

Bad choice, thinks Arthur, taking the egg and dropping it into his pocket.

Ting!

The egg  trembles as if it were mad.