Jean-Rhys @MrMonkey you are so wise. Do you want to write the advise column for my newspaper?
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Mr. Karekin you are a man of action, indeed, and as such a man after my own heart, yes you are! I say jolly good! Such piratical behavior deserves not but a full broadside fired on the roll, to strike between the wind and the water, as it were, but you, sir, a fine gentlesentient, rightly take the honorable first shot across Its bow! I shall be proud to stand the line with you, sir, and add my cannon, er, well, what cannons I might come to possess once I have a deck beneath my feet again. But until then, consider Capstanturnbuckle a friend who shall assist by whatever means are available!
in a whisper
[er, Tom, go and polish the silver plate brightly, might be time to head back to the pawnbroker for the funds to acquire another ship.]
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I agree. Whatever choice of action is made should be undertaken with discretion.
What do you say, Mr. Rounder @ghoti?
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Well, my dear ladies, I do believe something untoward is afoot.
Perhaps when I find Dick, he’ll be able to be of some use, investigatively speaking. That lad’s a wizard when it comes to research and so forth. It’s downright spooky how he finds things out…
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[Jean-Rhys beams.]
I say, Lady Elizabeth, what a cap–, cap–, kaaawfffff…
[Her pneumatics stutter and briefly seize, the color slowly draining from her cheeks as she waits for the fit to pass. An indicator light turns amber. Almost as if by magic, Rumpthwait appears and places a small glass of the specialty at her elbow.]
I most urgently thank you, Rumpthwait!
[She gasps, and then pours the entire drink directly into a previously sealed intake valve. There is a brief whistle followed by a soft, sharp pop, and then her whole frame visibly relaxes. A single puff of ochre-tinted mist drains from her vents, smelling faintly, yet distinctly, of fresh-baked brownies and lagoderm flatus.]
Lawks, that’s soothing! Duchess Gummibuns @gwwar, I am in your debt for the dram.
As I was saying, Lady Elizabeth, that sounds like a capital idea. You honor me with the offer. However, between this damnable cough, my duties at the University, and my own researches, I fear I could not give it the attention it deserves on a regular basis. Perhaps I could contribute a guest column, or two, instead?
If you might find such an arrangement agreeable, simply provide me with a selection of questions from your readers, and I will endeavor to answer one or two with what grace and wit I can muster.
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Mr Karekin’s recent Letter to the Editor of the Weatherby Times was rejected as “too long.” So it is being posted on the Leviathan Club bulletin board.
Sir –
As Weatherby’s Better Connected know, I am enthusiastic about the possible presence of Sentient Sandfish here on Weatherby. The possibilities for such an development to enhance Weatherby’s standing throughout the Galaxy are immense. To realize this potential, we first have to know which of our fellow beings are sentient, and in what manner.
Karekin fisheries already operates the largest commercial “catch and release” operation on Weatherby. We explicitly tailor our policies to take a “Do No Harm” stance toward organisms we suspect may be sentient. However, such an assessment is challenging given the current state of our knowledge.
Thus, I was thrilled when Commander Piker of the United Federation of Oceans and Seas (UFOS) joined us with his “ward” Ensign Crusher. I have made multiple overtures to Commander Piker of the UFOS for assistance, and thus far, I have received only dilation and delay. In addition to offering the complete capacities of Karekin fisheries, I have made available the the full analytical and genetic services of Eighth, a Landau, and that offer, too, has been rebuffed.
That is highly suspicious, as Karekin Fisheries is the largest fishery in the New Territories. Why did Commander Pike start his investigation with the smallest fishery and one known to be run with minimal oversight?
And now he delays, again, even though by his own estimation he has reason to believe aquatic sentients are being slaughtered as we speak.
We have a formal Names for this Behavior on Weatherby:
Accessory to Murder.
Negligent Homicide.
Sentientslaughter.
Should sentience be identified with our fellow beings here on Weatherby, I will insist that the full weight of our esteemed legal process thoroughly examine Commander Pike’s conduct.
At Your Service,
Mr. Jules Rothschild Karekin
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[ walks over to bulletin board to see what’s been posted there ]
Damn eyepatch, so much harder to read without my monocle.
[ reads Karekin’s screed and GASPS ]
[ finds himself at a loss for words ]
[ heads for the library, hoping to find a pen and some paper there ]
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[Stands up and clinks a knife against his glass altogether too loudly]
Fellow Leviathals, er Leviathanians… rather Leviathans. Yes, Fellow Leviathans, allow me to remind you that the club register shows today as the birthday of our esteemed fellow Reginald Obrigado Ursula Knick-Knack Dipsmith, uh… or something along those lines, and better know to his friends as Rounder @ghoti . Huzzah!
Now I don’t pretend to understand the physics behind the calculation of how a Space Felix Silvestris Castus moves through one dimension of time, let alone nine, but I do know that according to the register, our own Rounder has today finished another trip around Weatherby System Sol. We salute you, old bean, as a little older, and heh, heh, if I may be so bold, a little Rounder.
Now my friend, allow me to present a small token of our esteem. Yes, it’s something I’ve cooked up in the lab, but a lot of brainstorming went into its design and it’s really from all of us.
I’ve managed to cross a lagoderm with a boomarang to create a one-of-a-kind creature.
Many Hoppy Returns.
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St-Patrick-Hartbrooke is still awaiting a response. For some reason, the respondent of his challenge has sent a note in an unsigned ledger to his father’s apartment (his father being Aaaakzeee St-Patrick-Hartbrooke II, a businessman of some note), and his father can make neither heads nor tails of the accompanying message.
The father’s son, the challenger in said duel, might have been better able to guess the provenance of said ledger, but perhaps would have just as much difficulty deciphering the intended message.
Aaaakzeee St-Patrick-Hartbrooke III, true to his promise, starts drafting letters to the various Weatherbean publications to expose his foe’s perfidy, along with a quick note to his second to check if Mr. Karekin (@David_Falkayn) has heard anything from (@manwich) or his second.
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only this cryptic image
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I am *expanding!* It is so much *squishy* to *smell* you!
Weapons are delivered to *tiny wet cave*. Next I will *spit* *slow time* words to you for better *dancing*.
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Another letter, hand-written in a lavish, flowing script, has been pinned on the board next to the original.
Gentlebeings of the Leviathan Club,
A recent missive has raised the rather intriguing, if fanciful, notion of the existence of sentient sandfish. It has also carelessly bandied about such inflammatory terms as “murder” and “sentientslaughter”, which seem entirely unwarranted when applied to the likes of Commander Piker @fintastic, who is, one may be reminded, a True Citizen and, more importantly, a Member in Good Standing of this very Club!
Likewise, the honour and integrity of the Rothschild-Landau’s can not be doubted. And their reputation for mercantile acumen is unbounded, certainly far in excess of my own, so I can only hope that I may one day understand the secrets by which a Fishery can remain profitable by releasing its catch.
I find Mr. Karekin’s @David_Falkayn enthusiasm contagious and, in the spirit of Philosophical Inquiry, I wholeheartedly support the impetus for further investigation into the matter of the possible existence, maybe, of sentient sandfish. Young Walleye @Chewseen has already made a fine start with his Nautical Echolinguistict Traps (NET) devices, which will surely have more practical applications in other fields should they fail to snare their intended quarry in this one.
Nevertheless, I must counsel both patience and caution, lest our excitement hie away with our reason. While much is unknown about the largest exemplars of the species (which are understandably quite difficult to study in situ), the finest minds of Charybdis have to date noticed no evidence of any higher functions in the brains (such as they are) of sandfish. Indeed, the venerable Encyclopedia Britannia Prime makes no mention of even a hint of such qualities in its entry on the subject.
In summation: Extraordinary claims require Extraordinary evidence, and we should take due time to make appropriately rigorous observations, followed by an equally thorough analysis of the data collected. The tenets of Natural Philosophy demand no less!
Despite the accolades such a discovery would surely inspire, I fear it’s much more likely that the only way to truly “do harm” to a sandfish would be to drown it in crème de tartar prior to serving it.
Your humble servant,
Jean-Rhys Witherspoon Wilhelmina Winnifred Rodchaser née Westingham
Weatherby University Distinguished Professorship &tc.
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@Rumpthwaite , would you kindly serve as witness.
@bartlebot, would you kindly record.
To any publishers present, feel free to publish a report.
apporaches Mr. Karekin’s booth. Bows slightly.
Honorable Mr. Jules Rothschild Karekin,
I have read your extensive letter to the editors of the Weatherby Space Times, of the city of Weatherby, on the planet of Weatherby, in the system of Weatherby.
Since you seem to prefer publishing alternative facts, may I kindly remind you that I neither own or operate any fishery.
Now, if you are becoming a man of conscience, it is within your power to suspend or divest yourself from your fish harvesting operations.
Alternatively, if you are becoming civically minded, perhaps you would deign to champion improved regulation and oversight of the fishing businesses on Weatherby.
As it stands, as summer comes to a close, we have finished the upgrades to our .NETS devices and are prepared to survey your fisheries, as you had previously been amenable to.
Elsewhise, if you have changed your mind, as is certainly your prerogative, we shall proceed with the next fishery that has granted us consent.
Please do advise post-haste; Winter is coming.
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V_Lady Elizabeth proudly posts a paper on the bulletin. She steps back, tilts her head, adjusts it a little. The. She smiles and goes to the bar._
the Sea Teas flibbertigibbet v. I
Plague continues to spread.
Evil hum labeled social periah of the season.
Threat level raised to orange as threat from New Prussian rises
Creibile sources say there are numourous spies among us.
Letter to the editor,
Ensign Walleye and his Captain need to be investigated. Walleye admitted what this project is capable of
" making the Nautical Echolinguistict Traps that will capture any sub-seaonic chatter that may be occurring in any local lakes, streams, or byways."
yes, a planet wide listening system that can pick up any conversation in or close to the water. King Grigori’s fondness for the sea is well known.
There are indeed highly effective listening devises. capable of extracting full linguistic content from the background. As advertised.
However, they have additional "undocumented Features. " They “phone home.” This is they send packets of information off-world. Much of the information appears to be go the MicroSerf servers in Puget Cluster. Alarming, but hardly surprising for a .NET device. However, other information seems to be bound for … New Prussia.
We must protect our new home from outside interference.
Editorial Board of Sea Teas F. endorses
Mayor, Harriet Tidewell
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psst… Do you recall Madame Scallopini’s lesson on posthole digging? It is best not to apologize prior to being called out for your shortcomings. That way, your shortcomings are most likely unnoticed by most.
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The messages have finally gotten clearly to St-Patrick-Hartbrooke, and he stops by Hartbrooke Hall to pick up the ledger. Coincidentally, his father’s butler, Jeremy is there (as he always is), so he decides to make use of this additional resource.
“Jeremy, could you please bring me a copy of Customs of the Aurient, the Code Duello (Weatherby Edition), and the by-laws of the Leviathan Club? I must research the subject of a car-oak duel to the death.”
“At once, sah, although, if I may the libahty…”
The Space Griffin cocks his head at the butler. “Yes?”
“I believe the wohd is pronounced ‘kah-rah-oh-keh,’ or, in the vulgah sense, ‘kay-ree-OH-kee.’”
“My thanks, Jeremy.”
The butler bows and retreats to the library to retrieve the specified resources, while the Taaa’Keee practices the pronunciation of the unfamiliar word.
When the servant returns, St-Patrick-Hartbrooke stands to take the books from him, and asks, “Karaoke?”
“Indeed, sah.”
With a curt nod, he sits back down and starts his research.
After reading Customs of the Aurient, St-Patrick-Hartbrooke summons Jeremy again.
“Sah?”
“Am I understanding this correctly, Jeremy? This… karaoke… is a competition of musical ability?”
“Vocal ability only, sah; the instrumental poahtion is provided, and one must replicate the vocals of the original song, adding, of coahse, pehsonal embellishment to suit one’s own taste.”
“I do not understand, Jeremy. I specifically and explicitly stated that this was to be a duel to the death. I threw down the sinister glove, as well; there should have been no ambiguity! Unless that one’s species can kill or be killed through music…”
“Probahbly not, sah, but Leviathan’s has the means foah the fatal duel to occah. If you’ll refahrence the chaptah on duelling?”
The gentleman turns to the page in question and starts reading. “Ah. The rules seem fair enough. Unusual, but fair. Well, then, let us start preparations.”
“You do not wish to dispute the absuhd choice of weapons, sah? It is youah right, undah the Code Duello.”
"Jeremy, I am Taaa’keeen. We may be more raptor than songbird, but song is part of our mating behaviour, precise timing built into our native language, and my own lyricism has been honed by long years at finishing school. I would prefer to duel with plasma pistols, but if that one’s weapon of choice is song… I will make <pleasing hum>(@manwich) rue that choice. "
St-Patrich-Hartbrooke frowns for a moment, thinking of the consequences of disputing the weapon choice.
“Perhaps if the choice of weapons were not an absolute right… But if I dispute it, it gives the challenged party the ability to withdraw honourably, and I will not let that being escape the consequences for its actions. No, if that one wishes to wager its life on a test of its singing ability against mine — although I cannot see how a being incapable of vocalizing intends to win a duel of vocal ability — then so be it. A pen, and paper, Jeremy. I must send word to Mr. Karekin(@David_Falkayn) of my acceptance of the terms of the duel.”
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[Upon overhearing the choice of weapon declared by <pleasing hum> (@manwich) Rumpthwaite suddenly pauses while cleaning the glassware.]
“Yes, of course,” he mutters to himself under his breath. “Rowdier members almost always Space Lobsters have expressed a preference for enhancing KaraokeBot with haptic suits, holometric projectors, and neural interfaces to engage in a more physically aggressive ‘Combat Karaoke’. Chords can be experienced as contusions, lyrics as lacerations, and beats as proper beatings. Generally not lethal, but when set to maximum output with the safety features disabled the experience can become truly fatal as one Mr. Charles Fromage discovered most accidentally in 2407.”
[Although he cannot act in the capacity of second, the old moose begins to retrieve the requested enhancements from the storage room of the club, afeared for what is about to take place.]
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This duel is rather exciting. I don’t have much use for a musical d6, but I’d pay good money for the cadaver of any biology-based life forms. Say, 500 £ to a ward, or favorite nephew? Er, not that I’m wishing ill on anyone useful to my research, but you never know what may happen.
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St-Patrick-Hartbrooke, updating his Last Will and Testament due to the risk involved in the duel, specifies that his body should be given a Christian burial, and by no means given to scientists for study, mad or otherwise.
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