The Urban Safari c7
"Well, that was a job well done!" Ridcully said with satisfaction, as he assisted the Watchmen and Assassins in loading a new cage with doped lions. He looked up, and frowned.
"I say, that man!" he called to Special Constable Andy Hancock.
"What the devil is that contraption?"
"It's a bolas, sir!" Andy called back, smartly. "It's used on the Toledan pampas to bring down running animals."
"I see. How does it work?"
"You swing the cord just so, sir, and the weights on the ends fly out.."
He demonstrated, semi-eptly. There was an angry cry from Special Constable Piggle, who only just dodged out of the way of the flying lead weights.
"The theory is that the weights wrap the cords around a running animal's legs, and it gets tangled up and brings itself down."
"That's the theory, is it. You ain't tried it out for real, yet?" Ridcully said, doubtfully.
"It works for the Toledans, sir. When I heard the job involved trapping escaped animals, I thought it'd be just the thing to bring along and try out!"
"Well, you know best, I suppose." Ridcully sighed, just ahead of Miss N'Golate, who said "I wouldn't. I really wouldn't."
Then one of the large ruminant buffalos, its eyes attracted by the motion, lumbered closer to see what was going on in a suddenly lion-free field. Ridcully dived for cover as its lumber became a charge, straight at Hancock, who held his ground, whirling the bolas around his head. The rest of the Assassins and Watchmen dived out of the way as the bull pounded closer and closer.
Then Hancock let the bolas go.
To everyone's surprise, it worked perfectly.
The weighted cords wrapped themselves several times around the running animal's front hooves. It let out a bellowing affronted moo of surprise, and stumbled to the ground.
Unfortunately, Hancock was still holding the other end of the cords. The creature's huge horned head swept down and up to the right, catching Hancock between the horns, and swinging him up into the air, depositing him in a muddled unmoving heap on the turf. As it tried to reach him and gore him, a flurry of anaesthetic darts hit it, but appeared to have no effect on the creature's thick leather hide.
"Oh, hell!" Miss N'Golate cursed. "Of ell the stupid…"
She drew a dagger, then methodically opened a phial of the drug they were using to tip the darts. She poured it liberally over the blade.
"This hed better work!" she said, and leapt for the bull, stabbing its flank just hard enough to pierce the hide. It mooed and reared, and she leapt back, dropping her dagger. But the bull blinked, and very slowly, succumbed to sleep.
"We'd better get that damn fool to the rear. By the look of it, a couple of Igors have shown up. Good men, they always know when they're needed!" Ridcully decided. "I'd better give 'em a warnin' signal!" He raised his hand, and spoke a syllable or two…
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Igor and Igorina had set up a temporary field hospital in the back of a cart at the park gates. They awaited their first patients with eager anticipation, knowing that Miss Smith-Rhodes on the one hand, and Andy Hancock on the other, were almost certain to oblige them.
"Do you need a hand?" a deep voice inquired. "I heard there were Howondalandian animals on the loose, and I thought an extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt."
It was the Quite Reverend Clement N'Effibl, the well-liked chaplain to the Assassins' Guild, a Zulu who was affectionately known to the students as "Black Mass". Igorina welcomed him warmly.
"Stick around, padre. I hear there's a casualty on the way!"
______________________________---
As Ponder Stibbons swept down to the park gates, steadying the unconscious girl Assassin and feeling his arms aching, he spotted the second stretcher-party on the ground. He reflexively ducked as he saw Ridcully throwing up an arm, and steered away slightly from the red fireball that shot up into the sky like a distress flare. But he was through, and on his way down…
Hmm, that must be the Igor medical station, there are two of them outside that covered wagon with the registration number painted on the roof…MAS 4077 H. Ponder reflected on the mind's ability to absorb trivia even in serious situations. And wasn't that Vimes there, looking angrier than normal and haranguing…
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"What the hell are you dressed like that for, Nobby?"
The newly arrived Corporal Nobbs sidled on the spot, in what on somebody else might have been a rather fetching taffeta dress with puffed sleeves. He reached under his bonnet to retrieve a dog-end from behind his ear.
"Just come from undercover duties, sir. Acting as decoy for Lance-Constable von Humpeding."
Vimes took a deep breath.
"Nobby, the general intention was for Sally to be the decoy and for you to move in and arrest anyone trying to steal her bag."
"We discussed it, sir. We both thought it worked better this way."
"And where is Sally right now?"
"Somewhere in there, sir." Nobby indicated the park.
Vimes was about to say more, but an exploding scarlet fireball, high in the sky, suddenly illuminated the scene… they looked up.
"Incoming cathualty, sir!" Igor shouted. "Aerial cas-evac, one case!"
"That was hawk-eyed!" Igorina complimented him, as the broomstick spiralled down.
"You've noticed? Only partially, though!"
The two Igors and the Chaplain ran to retrieve the injured girl from Ponder. For some reason all three ducked low on approaching the broomstick, as if expecting something to hit them at about neck-height. The illusion was so complete that even Ponder briefly looked up. Nothing there. He shrugged, but tasted magic, briefly.
"Bad facial injuries. Large monkey bite. Her eyes are…" Ponder couldn't complete the sentence.
The Igors nodded and carried the girl to their makeshift hospital.
Clement patted Ponder on the shoulder. At this moment, Ridcully's stretcher party arrived with the unconscious Hancock. Ridcully stopped dead at the sight of Nobby, dragged up and made-up, albeit inexpertly. .
"What's this, Sam? Fella tryin' to work his ticket on the grounds of mental instability?"
Vimes shook his head. "I doubt it, Mustrum. That's how we all got in."
"I get this catalogue." Nobby explained. "Mail-order, see. Spares embarrassing scenes."
"I'm sure it does." Ridcully said. Then he turned to Hancock.
"Sorry, Sam, I'm afraid he got a bit, well, mashed…"
"Yes. I saw it. When he wakes up I'm having a word. That was positively bloody sucidal! "
"Well, at least it knocked him out cold, so it was painless." observed Ridcully.
Igorina came out to quickly check over the new casualty.
"The sword of time will pierce our skins.
It doesn't hurt when it begins.
But as it works its way on in,
The pain grows stronger ...watch it grin, but..."
She looked up.
"Sorry. Old Igor song. Don't know what came over me there."
In answer to Vimes' unspoken query, she said
"Concussion. Dislocated arm and thigh. Some broken ribs. We'll keep him sedated, but he can safely wait until we've dealt with the more serious case."
"How is she?" Ponder Stibbons asked, anxiety showing from behind his little round glasses. "I need to tell Johanna and the other one something."
" You can say Igor's stabilised her condition, cleaned the wounds, removed tissue damaged beyond repair, and she's about to get a blood transfusion. And… The other one?" Igorina said, grinning slightly. "That's Madame Deux-Épées. Some of the braver pupils call her "Hotlips", although it would take a brave student to say it to her face."
Ponder paused. "Johanna doesn't have a nickname, does she? Just asking."
Igorina's eyes narrowed slightly. "First-name terms already, I see? Just assure her that very shortly, I will be doing the cosmetic stitching on Miss Perry-Bowen's facial wounds. Some things you just cannot entrust to male Igors. And with regard to further operations which will involve a degree of bioartificing, we need to speak to a parent or guardian who can give permission on her behalf. Her housemistress will do. That's Hotlips, by the way. Bring her here, if you can!"
Ponder leapt for the broomstick again. He paused, and asked Vimes "Any messages, sir?"
Vimes quickly began briefing him, and then reflected.
"On second thoughts…" and leapt onto the pillion.
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Meanwhile, the Librarian was nearing the end of another trek across the park. Moving through the tall grass at the edge of the lake, he could both smell and now hear other apes. The smell was heavier and muskier than that of the chimps: the voices deeper and more sonorous, with a mournful quality.
"GROINK-grok-grok-gron-gron-WHOOP!"
He approached with care and caution, adjusting his comprehension patterns to adapt to the new apes.
{Mummy, I'm hungry!"}
{Eat the nice grass, dear. Look, yum yum, there's lots of it!"}
{Don't want grass!"}
{Well, try out some of these leaves, then. Whatever you do, don't wake up Daddy. He's always grumpy if you wake him up from his nap!"}
The Librarian knuckled forward, very carefully and deliberately. These were going to be a different sort of ape.
"Groink?"
"Ook-ook-a-ook"
The Librarian took a deep breath and stepped forwards.
The family group of gorillas looked at him in surprise. He counted six: two adult females, one juvenile male, and two infants. And, waking up, one very grumpy dominant silverback male.
GROINNNNK? {Who the bloody Hell are you?}
Ook-ook-a-ook! {I'm a friend and fellow ape! I need to talk to you!}
The Librarian realised the opposite case applied here. His superior size and strength had enabled him to beat up the alpha chimp, and, temporarily, take over the troop. Here, he realised he was in the presence of an even bigger and stronger ape than he was, one that would have no difficulty whatsoever in ripping his head off and spitting down the hole. He very carefully laid down his burden of bananas, stepped back, and adopted a submissive posture.
I'm sure you're all hungry after your long journey? Just a little gift. While we eat, we can talk.
Six pairs of eyes swivelled to look at the bananas. The Librarian very carefully pulled one from the bunch, peeled it, and slowly, gently, offered it to the baby gorilla, making reassuring ook-ook noises. Again, a banana cemented inter-ape diplomacy, as the gorilla child tentatively took it, and then took a bite. Things very quickly became more relaxed, and the gorilla mother said
Thank you, whoever you are. You wouldn't believe how fussy he is about his food! Getting him to eat properly is a nightmare!
The massive silverback knuckled forwards, making what the Librarian thought were very Ridcully-like harrumphs. He stored this subversive notion up for leisurely replay later, and allowed the alpha gorilla to appropriate the bananas. Although he generously said
Help yourself, friend. Sorry I was a bit abrupt. Just for a moment there I thought you were another bloody human naturalist. You couldn't move in the jungle for the buggers at one point. I don't know, you've just fed the kids, you've made the nest, you're settling down for an afternoon nap, then some bloody human turns up and tries to get into bed with you. And you're forced to try and be nice to the sod, when all you want to do is get your head down and blow a few zeds!
You can't rip their heads off any more. the female said, with a hint of regret. We could do it in Grandfather's time, but do that today, and you get them coming after you with tranquiliser darts and nets.
But they still trapped us, though. said the other female. And put us on that, what do you call it, boat thing on the big water. Talk about seasick! If God meant gorillas to go to sea, he'd have given us fins!
The Librarian coughed, as near to delicately as an orang can manage. He settled the baby gorilla that had climbed into his lap and was making itself comfortable, and said
Now that's what I want to talk to you about… and repeated the presentation he'd given to the chimps.
The silverback nodded, unsurprised.
So she's here, is she? Doesn't surprise me. We've got an agreement with her. We don't tread on her toes, she won't come gunning for us. Clever girl, I thought. Got the brains to let us sleep in the afternoon and not disturb us. Well, Mr Orang-Utan from BhangBhangDuc, we're in your capable hands!
I was thinking your phalange could come with me down to the humans at the gates?
Ah, now that's where you're wrong, friend. It's a whoop of gorillas. It's a phalange of baboons.
Ah. No offence.
None taken, friend. It's amazing how even the smartest people make that mistake. Oi, junior! What are you up to over there?
"What are these things called, dad? They're yummy!
The Librarian coughed again.
They're daffodils. They're a sort of flowering bulb.
Whatever they are, they're top scran!1(1)
The silverback belched, contentedly.
"We'll just take our ease and eat a few more of these bananas, then we're all yours. By the way, there are bloody baboons over there. If ever a species deserved an antisocial behaviour order, it's those buggers. If you see one, thump it. And keep thumping it till the others get the message.
The Librarian sighed, cuddled the baby, and relaxed. The day was turning out just fine.
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Within two minutes. Ponder had ferried Vimes over to the group confronting the baboons in the wood. A command conference ensued and Vimes and Johanna brought each other up to date on what was happening.
"It is my belief, Commender, thet we hev captured the greater part of the enemels ellowed to roam in the perk. There are the baboons to deal with, here, end the bewilderbeeste et the Hubwise end. I suspect the apes will give themselves up, efter the Librarien hes spoken to them of the evaileble options. Hev cages ready for the chimps and do not take your eyes off them for a second. They ere clever little rescels. The hippos in the lake we cen safely leave, for now, elthough pleasure boating should be suspended for a period. I believe we cen now eccount for all the lions and leopards – good work everyone."
Johanna paused.
"Sir Samuel, I understand thet when the College of Herelds burnt down, Lady Sybil accommodated pert of their menagerie et Remkin Menor. Does she hev eny spare cepecity et this moment, and would she be prepared to temporarily host some of the smaller and less demending creatures?"
"I imagine she'd be glad to help. But I do have a very curious little boy, and some of these animals are…"
Johanna smiled.
"I understand, Sir Samuel. The creatures I hev in mind are harmless and do not attack humans. The standard swemp dregon pen should be emple for them. I hev other plens for the other enimels."
As Vimes conferred with Johanna, Ponder sought out Emmanuelle and relayed Igorina's message about the wounded girl. She gave him a long appraising look, and Ponder realised that he was in the presence of the other sort of Assassin: the cool calculating killer. But she does have very full sensual lips, though. No wonder they call her Hotlips. said the prompt from his hindbrain, which was thoroughly enjoying its day out in the sunshine. There wasn't usually much call for its assistance in the rarefied academic world of the H.E.M.
"Bien sûr." She said, eventually. "I shall see to it." And then "I'm glad it's Igorina doing the stitching, Professor Stibbons. Igors are fantastic surgeons, the best, but they have the blind spot, they do not realise a female patient wishes for as few scars as possible afterwards. Igorina understands such foibles. Her stitching is formidable! Invisible!"
Johanna felt her heart fall. He's met Emmanuelle. That's it, then. No competition. Men fall for her. She's an enchantress. He'll offer to fly her back to the park gates. She felt an uncharacteristic pang of jealousy.
Then Emmanuelle said "Johanna, with most of the job done, I think we should start winding down here. I propose that I should take two-thirds of our students back across country to the park gates. They will be needed to help at the Palace menagerie and the AMU. If Catherine's condition is stable, there is no hurry for me to return there with all swiftness. I can confer with Igor concerning..her injuries. You, in the meantime, retain Professor Stibbons as your pilot to move you quickly as is necessary." And it gives more time for the centime to drop for both of you. Mes dieux, academic people can be so stupid in a specialised sort of way!
"Good. Please cerry on." Johanna found herself saying. "Ponder, I wish to investigate how the other group are getting on with the bewildebeeste."
"Hop aboard!" he invited her. Ponder felt strangely confident and happy in his world, all of a sudden. He wondered how long it would last.
Not complete, I know, but I'm off on holiday for a week and probably won't be able to get near a PC. So this will have to do till I'm back!
1 (1) Fans of 1980's British comedy will recognise the references instantly, including the veiled one to "David Bloody Attenborough". . For those who don't, You-Tube on Mel Smith, Rowan Atkinson, Not the Nine O'Clock News, and the Gerald the Gorilla sketch.
Before this sketch aired on British TV around 1981, there hadn't been a universally accepted collective noun for a group of baboons. "Phalange" was invented for the show because it felt right. And such is the power of humour and viral comunication, even in a pre-Internet age, that this comic sketch launched the word on the world...