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.