Too Small To Be Jacques Cousteau

So they'll be arriving tomorrow? says Arthur.

I guess, says Sweezus.

Who's this? asks Gaius.

Ssü-K'ung Shu and Terence, says Sweezus.

We could do without Terence, says Gaius. But Ssü-K'ung Shu will make himself useful.

Yes, says Arthur. Very useful.

How come? says Sweezus.

Another famous ecologist, says Arthur.

Oh, which one? asks Louisa.

Suzuki, says Arthur.

Sweezus stifles a snort with a cough.

 I thought he said Shu-Kung-Shu, says Louisa.

That's his nickname, says Arthur. Who are you?

Louisa, says Louisa. I was in the band. I played the trumpet.

So we'll see you tomorrow, says Arthur, when the ferry comes in. Try playing something Japanese this time.

Too easy, says Louisa.

What a confident girl.

She goes up the steps, whistling I'm Turning Japanese.

Arthur, says Sweezus. What the fuck?

We might as well milk it, says Arthur. Two famous ecologists. Better than one. Pity Terence is too small to be Jacques Cousteau.

And too alive, says Sweezus. And not French either. Arthur you're nuts, but...

But what? says Arthur.

Gaius has been only half listening. He's been thinking about Redlichii trilobites and their possible relation to the Ediacaran biota. He looks up.

So Shu is arriving tomorrow, says Gaius. Excellent news. We must stay in Penneshaw over night so we can greet him. Arthur, will you .... oh wait, did you get me that pencil sharpener?

Better than that, says Arthur, taking the Swiss Army Knife from his pocket.

It has screwdrivers! And a can opener! How generous of Mayor Clements! says Gaius. I must remember to thank him.

No need. I did that already, says Arthur.