Through Darkest Zymurgia!

In the event, Carbuncle had three weeks before the council grew restless. We passed the time in various ways. I did my surveying, as I have already related; Philpott was much with Asha and Mukden; Fox, to my surprise, spent considerable time talking with our guards, using Cadbury as an intermediary. The guards soon voted the two of them capital fellows, and chatted merrily with them while casting stony glances at the rest of us. Hodgins, of course, was busy with Carbuncle in the Temple.

By the 12th of Aughtnever, Carbuncle had progressed considerably. He had discovered no means of shutting Basenis off gracefully, nor indeed any means of stopping Basenis short of the destructive method he still refused to discuss with us. Indeed, he had cut off that line of research altogether, and was concentrating his efforts on duplicating Basenis' capabilities.

"I'm quite close to completing the little pup," he said. We were seated at the dining table, having just finished yet another plain meal. "Except for one little detail," he was adding, when one of our guards hailed Mukden.

"The council," he said, simply, and was off. He returned in a surprisingly short time. "You are summoned," he said to Carbuncle and I. "I told them that only you could answer their questions." He grinned at Philpott. "I told them that I would not dare to speak for such powerful wizards in this matter."

"They want to know what's taking so long, eh?" I asked.

"Indeed, my friend. You are the famous wizards from the Lands Below."

"Just Carbuncle and I?"

Mukden pondered that. "They did not say."

"Fine, that's fine. We'll all go." His face showed concern. "I'm sure everyone here is as tired of these four walls as I am. It's about time they should condescend to speak to us." With a shrug, then, Mukden lead us from the room.

The council met in a fine big house on the east side of the temple plaza, comfortably out of sight of the stair leading to Basenis' den. As we walked I asked Carbuncle what he intended to say.

"I'll tell them how to stop Basenis forever, of course. It's too bad, but there it is." Fox was walking on Carbuncle's other side; I noticed that he was chewing his lower lip. Several times he looked about to speak, but we reached the council chambers before he made up his mind to it.

"Council chambers" is a rather grandiose term, I fear. One pictures the Hall of the Legates in Lyricum Town, or perhaps Vulgar House in Pelham: dark wood, rich tapestries, the whole brightly lit by chandeliers and lamps in wall sconces; the councillors wearing fine satins and velvets, and gold chains of office. The council chamber in Basenis Basor was simply a large room with a high ceiling, filled with a diverse collection of chairs, tables, and Zymurgians. Some few had the golden embroidery of mastery; the rest were clad simply in white. There was no ceremony. We were lead before the group, and one of their number, a rotund master, stood up and spoke shortly.

"Basenis still feeds. Why is this?" translated Mukden.

"Because you have not prevented him," replied Carbuncle. When his words were translated, a susurrus of indignant commentary filled the room. The speaker was forced to rap on a table several times to restore order.

"Explain yourself. Do you wish to anger Basenis? Do you wish more of our homes and folk to be devoured? When Basenis hungers, people die."

"Yet you have the power to starve Basenis, while yet preserving your homes."

The councillors stared at him. The speaker's upper lip curled, and he waved a hand at our guards, stopping in mid-gesture as Carbuncle spoke again.

"Send for bricks and fresh water."

The speaker was raising his hand again, when Carbuncle spoke in a tone he usually reserves for underclassmen. "Send for bricks and fresh water!"

The speaker rolled his eyes, and gave a few orders. Slumping into his chair, he then ignored us until those he had sent returned with a jug of water and several baskets of bricks. Carbuncle commandeered a table, and pulling a knife from his pocket he quickly constructed a crude model of the temple. It came complete with stairs and Basenis' den. All eyes were upon him as he pulled Hodgins' carving out of his coat pocket and placed it within the model. He had been curing the bricks carefully with water as he placed them, so that when he was done the model was solid as rock. The speaker looked at him quizzically.

"And so?" translated Mukden.

Carbuncle smiled. Taking the few remaining bricks, he quickly covered over the mouth of Basenis' den leaving not the slightest opening. He finished by pouring the last drops of water over the model.

"What happens when Basenis grows hungry?" he asked.

The assembled company stared at him in silence, and then at the model. I believe it was Mukden who first began to laugh; for myself, I felt quite the fool. Of course it was obvious. The one thing Basenis would never eat was his own bricks, nor did he ever molest the Keepers in their brick homes. If brick was sufficient to keep him out, surely it was enough to keep him in. "Show off," I muttered under my breath.

After that the councillors were considerably more cheerful, and the speaker himself unbent enough to wish us a good night as we were lead from the room. I gathered that preparations for the work would begin the very next day.

Fox sought me out after we had returned to our dwelling. He looked worried.

"Professor Thintwhistle, may I ask you a few questions? Concerning your Royal warrant." Eyebrows raised, I gave my assent.

"Suppose your friend succeeds in duplicating Basenis, and brings the duplicate to market. The profits would clearly be the fruit of this expedition. Who is entitled to the money?"

"We are, of course, as leaders of the expedition. Carbuncle, Philpott, and myself. His Majesty wishes to encourage exploration."

"The three of you? What about the Earl of Luton? Didn't he put up the funds?"

"Indeed he did, but as a gift to the University. I suppose Philpott might give the old fellow a hand, given his financial difficulties...speaking of which, why is the earl in financial difficulties? The timing seems odd, him having just donated so much money for the expedition." I looked questioningly at young Frederick. Turn about is, after all, fair play.

"Bad luck. He was invested heavily in Bundi trading shares. The company involved--not mine, I am glad to say--lost several ships recently, and share prices plummeted. As he had borrowed heavily from our bank with the shares as collateral we felt it necessary to call the loan." He paused. "If not the earl, what about the University?"

"The University benefits by the prestige of claiming such distinguished explorers for its own, and by hope of rich bequests from the explorers' estates. No, if Carbuncle succeeds it is the three of us who will profit."

"Does that also apply to Carbuncle's wine chiller?"

"Certainly not. It is true, he produced it while in transit on the Sea-Spaniel, but it was all his own work; he could have done it just as well at home. Any profit he realizes from it will be his own."

Fox nodded sagely, rising to his feet. "Thank you, Dr. Thintwhistle. You have been of great service to me."

After he had left, I did a little nodding myself. No doubt he had hoped to seize Carbuncle's duplicate along with the Sea-Spaniel when we left Seros. I was quite disappointed in him for cherishing such a thought, and retired with a heavy heart.

When I came down to breakfast, Fox was gone. I didn't notice his absence right off, any more than one notices when a familiar piece of furniture is removed; still, one feels a strangeness, and casts about for an explanation. The furniture in our dining area was minimal, consisting of a table and several benches, all of which were present. Was someone missing? It seemed clear that someone must be, yet I could not think who it was. I was finally forced to review our journeys in my head, skipping from high point to high point, until I had the answer. Fox was gone, and Cadbury too. They weren't at the table, and I knew they weren't in the bedroom upstairs, for I had been the last to rise.

"Where," I asked the room in general, "have Fox and Cadbury gone off to?"

"We don't know for sure." Philpott broke off his conversation with Asha long enough to answer me. "They arose shortly after I did, and went out to chat with our guards. When next I looked, they were gone."

"How long ago was that?" I asked only out of idle curiousity. I thought it unlikely that Frederick would get into serious trouble, which shows that intuition has serious flaws. Or not, depending on your point of view.

"Several hours," said Philpott.

"I apologize for not waking you, Leon," said Carbuncle. "There seemed no point. Either they are escorted, and thus beyond our control, or they are on their own, in which case I'm sure they will be returned to us shortly."

As I could not but agree, I applied myself to my porridge, and to the view outside our window. It was a fascinating sight. As I have already related, our quarters were in a building that fronted on the plaza, and faced Basenis' den, high on the side of the temple. As I watched, workmen were setting up a wooden framework over the den's opening; massive bales of fabric lay on the upper steps of Basenis' stairway.

"To keep the rain off, do you think, Thomas?" I said, gesturing across the way with my mug of fruit juice. He nodded sagely.

"It is a reasonable assumption. I suppose they must shroud each of these buildings before working on it, or the first rain would ruin all of the unused bricks."

I nodded in response, and continued to stare moodily at the temple. Some half-an-hour later I sat up straight. In addition to the large framework over the den opening, a narrower framework sprouted out on both sides. It ran horizontally to east and west, ultimately turning south around the temple at both ends.

"Thomas? It appears as if they are building their tent all of the way around the temple. Why would they do that?"

"Structural strength, mostly. Once those bricks have cured completely, you can't get new bricks to stick to them anymore. If they covered over just the opening, Basenis could push the cover away without any great difficulty. Instead, they will lay a band of brick from the cover all of the way around the temple and back to the cover again on the other side. It isn't terribly elegant, but it will work."

"Hmm. Is all that work the reason you're still here, rather than at your workshop?"

"Yes, they didn't want me underfoot. Though it really doesn't matter; my scale model is very nearly done. It just needs to be activated, and believe me, there is no hurry. I rather think our hosts would tear me to bits if I gave them another Basenis to feed." Thomas said this in a more than usually sardonic tone.

At that point our conversation was interrupted by the return of the prodigal writserver, though indeed Frederick and Cadbury looked anything but repentant.

"Good morning, Professor Thintwhistle! A fine day, isn't it?" Fox was distressingly cheerful for such an early hour. "I bet the view is even nicer from the roof. Thaddeus, Asha, would any of you care to join me?"

I was not disposed to move, nor was Carbuncle, but the rest of our party traipsed up the stairs to the roof deck, leaving the two of us alone.

"I'm disappointed in young Frederick, Thomas," I began, and described Frederick's questions about Carbuncle's model. "I am sure he meant to seize it along with the Spaniel on our way home to Angland. Our warrant prevents him, fortunately, but it is still a despicable act. How I had hoped this expedition would bring out the mythogeographer in him!" Carbuncle made noncommittal noises as I expanded on my theses, being far too well-bred to say "I told you so." These pleasant ruminations were eventually disturbed by Frederick himself, who descended alone down the stairs and took a seat by the two of us.

"Professor Carbuncle, did I just hear you say that your working model is...well, working?" He looked lighthearted but quite earnest at the same time.

"In theory, only. The actual device still needs to be activated." Frederick waved that away.

"And once activated, it will produce beer and bricks in proportion to the amount of vegetable matter and water dumped into it?"

"So far as I can tell, that is so."

"In fact, if you were to construct enough of them, every house in all of Angland could have its own, isn't that right?"

"In theory, again, yes, I suppose they could."

"And provided they were well-cared for, they would never wear out?"

"The prototype hasn't, given some thousands of years."

"Excellent." Frederick looked from Carbuncle to me and back again, looking us both squarely in the eye, as he said, "Gentlemen, I have a business proposition for you."