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“Sinnessteuersymphonie”
A tale of mad science in six movements, with coda © E.O. Costello, 2008 *****
MOVEMENT THIRD: Insistendo I’ll be honest with you. When I have a day off, you can’t get me out of bed before early afternoon even if you have a crowbar and nitro. Being a plane jockey takes a lot out of you, especially when you have to be up at all sorts of insane hours of the morning to file flight plans and such, or staggering in from a late night with an engine that seems hell-bent on making your life miserable. So: I’m in a beautiful mansion, with a wonderfully soft bed, and a staff of furs that I’m actually allowed to make requests of. I don’t have to lift a toe-claw if I don’t want to. Question for you. Where am I, then, at about six-thirty in the morning? Doing brisk laps in the pool, that’s what I’m doing. But I’m slightly ahead of myself. I didn’t even have any sort of alarm clock, and no servant woke me up. My eyes simply snapped open. And I had a feeling that normally takes me at least four cups of coffee and my first two cigarettes of the day to achieve. And that’s another thing. I’d been without a smoke for a few days now…I realized it when I was getting up. My response? Boy, I'd kill for a Lucky, right now. Sticking burning leaves in your mouth? Primitive and childish. Only a fool or the weak-minded could believe that was sophistication. Manipulation by small-minded furs of no importance on Madison Avenue. But I want a smoke. Nothing of the sort. Filthy. You are not having one. My footpads hit the floor with a bounce, and I was on the point of clapping my paws, when I caught myself. Okeh, that was taking things a bit far. I don’t know what kind of hours my maids kept, but it was pretty early. A quick glance at the panel on the wall told me it was 6.24. The spot where Omega had been was empty. She must have left, or had been summoned. Or maybe she was just an earlier riser. Hrmph. Middle-class sentimentality. Near the flower bowls, there was a small silver bell, like you see on hotel front desks. I put paw to bell, and gave it two brisk rings. Clapping paws. Really. Vulgar and shallow. You have seen entirely too many bad cinema pictures. But how else was I supposed to…? By using your brains, woman. Thirty-Five A and Thirty-Five B came padding in. I needn’t have worried. They looked as fresh and unhurried as when I had dismissed them the night before. “I desire a swim this morning. Please…” A slight difference. Instead of staring straight ahead when I talked to them (or at the floor when I first saw Number Four), they now stared straight at me. Or through me, perhaps more accurately. Another difference: unlike when I had first come to, and had asked Number Four to draw my bath, they seemed to anticipate what I was going to ask. A little strange, until I realized the obvious answer that they had received their musical marching orders at some point or another, while I was asleep. Sleep. I don’t know when I’d last had a sleep like I had just had. A good, deep one, untroubled by anything. No crick in the neck from sleeping funny on a beaten-up sofa in some rat-hole of an airport in the sticks, and no having to sleep in a funny position on a Murphy bed. Ugh. I request that you cease these HORRID descriptions. Thirty-Four B undressed me, while Thirty-Four A held out a very thick cotton robe for me to slip into. There followed a procession down the Grand Staircase to the natatorium. I had the pool, a very large one, all to myself. It had been a long time since I had had a good, long swim, but soon I was doing laps like I used to as a kitten, back and forth across the length of the pool. And I wasn’t even getting tired. I had a good rhythm in my head, which translated into my stroke. I got out of the pool with as much energy as I had had going in. I also had an audience. Beta was standing stiffly at attention in the doorway, watching me intently as A and B toweled me off and helped me into my robe. “Good morning, Beta. Are you well this morning?” I gave her a look square in the eyes. I did mean the question, as I was starting to get pretty interested as to how Beta was feeling. Beta merely swiveled her ears, turned right around like a Guards soldier, and marched off. Gee, she seems awfully sore. I wonder if I should... Impertinent little hussy. Putting on airs far above her station. Ignore her. I’d tried that at boarding school. Didn’t always work. When I was back at my dressing table, I selected something nice and conservative in a skirt-suit, something suitable for chewing up Josslyn Buckhorn and spitting out the bones. While B was combing my head-fur, and A was putting on my shoes, the sun was coming through the window. It seemed like an excellent day to have breakfast out of doors. Which I did. A light breeze and a mild sun makes an excellent side-dish. When I was offered my menu by one of the furs in the dining room, I merely pointed out of doors, and in a few minutes, I could enjoy a broad vista from a terrace overlooking the garden, behind the glass end of the dining room. If I turned my head, I could even see one of the fishing boats at work not too far away, sliding along on a glassy ocean just barely rippled. With my maids in attendance, all was proper and correct. The French door to the dining room opened, and Forrester joined me. A fur poured him a cup of coffee. “I am sorry for the trouble, Mr. Forrester, but it would seem sinful not to enjoy the weather.” He sipped at his coffee, which must have looked like wine through his goggles. “I quite understand, Miss Hunter.” He gave me a long, searching look, up and down. Which felt both flattering and marvelous. “You seem in fine fettle this morning.” “I’m in a mood to show Tesla a thing or two about broadcast power.” An amused eyebrow raise. “We already have that.” “Hrmph. I’ll take on your machines, and spot them two megawatts. Any takers?” “I dare not bet, Miss Hunter, given the evidence before my eyes. The Island…it agrees with you?” “It’s either the setting…or the host.” There was a long pause, while Forrester considered what I said. I also considered what I said. What the hell am I thinking? You are being polite and flattering to your host. It is called manners. Little wonder you do not recognize it, with all of those horrid mechanics you swap filthy jokes with. I think it's something else. Nothing of the sort. Now sit up straight and smile at him. “I get very few chances, Miss Hunter, to have such convivial company for an extended period. Society here on the Island tends to be a hit-or-miss affair, as many of my colleagues are often busy with…well, their own projects.” “Ah, but you have a party tonight, of course.” “Indeed.” “I’m very much looking forward to it. Who is on the guest list? Other than myself, of course.” “Hmm? Oh, well, there’s the Freiherr von *&^%$$” Here, Forrester made a series of clicking and whistling sounds. “Marvelous fellow, experimenting with echo-location devices. Then there’s Brother Dominic, the botanist from the monastery. Ah, you can even see it this morning, over there.” He pointed to a large, dust-coloured building hugging a hillside some distance away. “Normally the mists hide things. Hmm. Oh, yes, Doctor Maldemort. He’s rather new to Society, he moved here with his clinic about two years ago, but he’s already made a name for himself as a surgeon. Wonderful fur for a trepanning. And lastly, there’s Carmelita. Herbalist by profession, mage by choice.” “A mage? How unusual.” “Oh, yes. Don’t let her fool you with her little tricks. She only does that to make fun of Freiherr von *&^%$$, who has views on the eldritch. I, personally, think he should broaden his mind on the subject. Carmelita makes a particular study of the effect of herbs on fur-tone. Try not to let Brother Dominic and Carmelita dominate the conversation, as they usually do.” I had no idea how I would even be able to get an intelligent word in edge-wise, let alone stop two obviously intelligent furs from having a good, old-fashioned academic argument, but I let it pass for the moment. Nonsense. Be yourself. I’m starting to wonder if that’s possible. Impertinent. “Is there anything I can do to help for the dinner party preparations, Mr. Forrester?” He seemed slightly startled by the question. “Oh…oh, no, Miss Hunter. Beta has those well in paw. She has handled these before, and she is, after all, the hostess.” “Ah. Well, I don’t wish to step on any feet, then.” Forrester gave me a long, searching look. “You misunderstand, Miss Hunter. Your initiative and energy are…highly praiseworthy. They are noted.” “It’s the fresh air. Or maybe the bed.” Forrester pondered that, and nodded. “You’re certain, Mr. Forrester?” Something inside me asked why I was smiling and swishing my tail when I said this. Could I be ANY more… If you interrupt again, I will punish you severely. Silence. Another long pause, while Forrester had his cup refilled. “I will check if Beta overlooks anything. But Miss Hunter, do enjoy such a beautiful day. We get so few days like today. I do not blame you for having such vitality. Indeed, the way you look this morning, only a fool would bet against you in your match with a Tesla device.” Forrester bowed, and strode inside the mansion, pausing only briefly to give me a sidelong glance at the doorway. I was watching the gardeners at work down below when there was a shuffling noise. Peering out from behind a large planter was one grey ear, folded down, and one worried yellow eye. “Omega. Come.” The head vanished in an instant. “Omega. Do come. Have some breakfast.” With some hurried looks from side to side, Omega slipped rapidly to where she was next to the table, but couldn’t be seen from the house. She looked rather expectantly at the table, then me, and then at the table again. A spoonful of strawberry jam on a toast-point vanished quite quickly, followed by another. A saucer of milky tea did likewise. My reward, such as it was, was Omega curling up in the sun, next to my shoes. Spoiling a slave? Really. Lookit, it isn't right to treat her like Beta has been doing. It is. She is an inferior. Very well, if you insist on this sentimental nonsense, I suppose it is your lookout. You bet it is, sister. I was lost in thought when I heard a short, sharp hissing noise. Omega had heard it first, and was off like a shot out of the terrace. Standing opposite me was Beta, who looked like she threw something on, and almost missed. I took the last bit of toast, and spread some honey on it. I nibbled at it, wiped my paws on a damask napkin, and smiled at her serenely. Beta quivered, and then reached out with both paws. In an instant, there was a sound of smashing china and glassware and clattering silver as the table went over with a crash. “Ah. You seem to have much energy this morning, Beta. I am sure your planning for the party will be…exceptional?” Another little smile was bestowed upon my friend as her eyes widened, and her breathing staggered. Luckily for me, at that moment, there was a sound of organ music from inside the mansion, a short, brief burst. Beta remained rooted in her spot, flexing the fingers on her paws. The music repeated itself, louder. Much louder. Beta looked to me, the house, and then at me again. She hissed again, with a hint of a sneer. “Mistress.” And then stalked off. Forrester was wrong. She knows two words. You shouldn’t treat your hostess like that. What of it? A slave is a slave, no matter the title. I am a free fur, and her superior. In every way. “Thirty-Five A and Thirty-Five B. There is a mess here. Put things straight.” My maids gave me a curtsey, and complied instantly. *****
“Mr. Forrester – I recall that you had invited me to make use of one of the staff to dress my head-fur, and I intend to enjoy the offer of that hospitality. If it is not an imposition, can you tell me if there is a fur trained in massage as well? If so, where would be the best place to make such arrangements? Thanking you in advance for the consideration you are showing, I am Yours, Alatheia” “Miss Hunter – Your request is by no means an imposition. Number Eighty-Seven has been trained in massage, and I shall have him report to the Day Room after Twelve has finished dressing your head-fur. I shall make some additional arrangements that I view as appropriate for your needs. I remain Your obedient servant, LDF” Among other things, the “additional arrangements” included a tod-fox playing the piano at one end of the Day Room. It competed quite admirably with the strength of the musteline paws on my back and shoulders for relaxation and pleasure. The weather, for its part, continued to cooperate, flooding the Day Room, through its glass walls, with a bath of sunshine. If I chose to open my eyes, which I did occasionally, I was met with a vast swath of cobalt-blue sea. Put together, it was as if every cell of my being was being taken apart, polished, and put back into place in the correct order. I was starting to think that the stories I had heard about Cranium Island were grossly exaggerated…or perhaps spread in an effort to keep the hoi polloi out. If the latter, I readily understood and was in complete agreement with the policy. I stretched out a paw, and broke off a small piece of cheese from the platter of cheddar and fruit that had been brought after the head-fur treatment. I brought my paw down toward the floor, and it was met with a nibble careful not to nip my fingers. Omega’s head emerged slightly. She was still in the habit of hiding, this time under the massage table, but it was easy to get her to come out. I ordered Twelve to give Omega’s head-fur a rinse and shampoo, and one of the Thirty-Fours, at my request, had brought down a long loop of black silk material. There was little material, but wound criss-cross twice, it restored to her at least a modicum of modesty. Judging from the way she held her tail, her morale was improving. I was glad to see a happy, friendly face. The fact that in all likelihood it would make that lepine bitch furious? A pleasing bonus. The tod at the piano (I recognized him from the orchestra the night before) was not only well-trained, he was widely trained. Most of what he played was light classical pieces, but right now, he was playing some Scott Joplin (“Bink’s Waltz,” to be exact) that was harmonizing delightfully with the Control Melody. As for the mink, he had finally located an errant tight muscle just above my tail base, and some expert pressure from a thumb was finally teaching it a lesson. A click of claws indicated that Omega had emerged from her hiding place, and she padded around the table, circling it once, before stopping at the head of the table, facing me. It required a good rinse (it may have been two) to show that she actually had rather pleasant blonde head-fur, which contrasted nicely with her salt-and-pepper fur. She was watching my masseur move his paws around my ribcage and sides. With great interest. “Do have a bit more of the cheese, Omega. I have to fit into my dress tonight.” Omega looked from side to side, seeing if any fur was looking. I palmed a decent-sized morsel, and held it out. She stuck out her tongue, and gently retrieved it from my paw. It was obviously good cheddar, since she licked her lips, and her tail was wagging slowly. The mink had just finished, when there was a padding outside, and the doors to the Day Room opened at a brisk command. The piano player stopped, and I could see out of the corner of my eye that the mink had come to attention. “Good afternoon, Mr. Forrester.” “Ah. Good afternoon, Miss Hunter. I beg your pardon, I have interrupted you. I shall…” “Oh, no! Please don’t go. I have seen so little of you, Mr. Forrester. Please, if you can spare a few minutes.” There was a bit of silence, and then I could see a pair of hooves cross my vision, as the buck fetched a chair. The mink left the room, but the tod resumed playing. Omega, for her part, looked fearful. I reached down and stroked her ears, which made her lie down quietly, eyeing her master. I sat up, and carefully held my towel against me. “I regret to say, Miss Hunter, that I am experiencing…difficulties…in arranging for your transportation off the island.” “Oh?” “Yes. I am sorry for that, I realize you wish to get on with your job, and that being cut off is an imposition on you.” I smiled and tossed my head-fur, which incidentally showed off the fact that Twelve’s skill with hot-oil treatments was top-notch. “But Mr. Forrester, surely any imposition is on you. After all, you and your staff must take time out to attend to my needs.” Forrester shook his head, and raised his paw. “Really, the household is designed to accommodate far more furs than are usually present. In any event, the slaves do not notice any additional burdens.” He paused, and looked down where Omega was crouched. “It would appear, indeed, that some have benefited from your presence.” “I’m sorry if that upsets the routine of the house, Mr. Forrester.” “No, no. Omega plays no part in the running of the household. Her condition is largely irrelevant to me.” Omega dipped her tail, and slunk under the table at that. “Well, if I have not mentioned it before, Mr. Forrester, I would like to say that I find this house wonderfully run. It’s like…well, an orchestra.” Forrester gave me a dry smile. “I take it that choice of words was deliberate.” I adjusted my towel slightly, and swished my tail. “Of course it is. Will the orchestra be playing tonight?” “I have not seen Beta’s final preparations for the party.” “Ah. How are they going?” “Beta seems to be pursuing them with great vigour, even more so than usual. I find that…interesting.” Another toss of my headfur. Forrester moved his head slightly, so I know he was watching the way it moved. “She clearly wishes to impress me with her skill. It is quite obvious that she has the talent for it.” “Hmmm. Yes.” My towel slipped slightly, but I caught it in good enough time. “Your work must require keen vision in the dark.” “Ah. You know of such matters?” “I’ve worn goggles like that for night-flying. Makes it easier to adjust to dim light.” “You are correct. I choose to work in the dark, because my work involves very special frequencies.” “Compensation?” “Precisely.” He tilted his head slightly. “Forgive my poor memory, Miss Hunter, but what did you say your education was?” “Engineering and Fine Arts.” “You seem to have a quick grasp of concepts. Most surprising for an outsider, if you will forgive my calling you that.” I gave him a warm smile. “How flattering of you to say so, Mr. Forrester. It would be very hard to maintain a conversation at your level, I would imagine.” My host made a tent of fingers in front of his nose, and thought. “My opportunities for conversation are fairly limited, Miss Hunter, so perhaps I am not the best judge. I will say, however, that you are showing me things that greatly intrigue me.” That earned him another warm smile. I hoped the comment was double-edged. “Well, perhaps it’s all as well that I shall be here a little while longer. I know that I am having a wonderful time, and if there is anything you would like of me in return, Mr. Forrester, you merely have to name it.” There was a long pause after this. I wondered if I had taken things a bit too far. But no, he merely got up and bowed to me. “A pity I do not know your family, Miss Hunter. I was raised in a culture that placed a high value on manners. Any training you received in those arts were very obviously taken to heart. It would be interesting to see how this developed.” He took a few steps toward the door. “And, perhaps, whether it is a predictor.” The doors clicked open at his vocal command. “I shall see you for cocktails at 7.30, of course.” “Of course, Mr. Forrester. Until then.” “Until then, Miss Hunter.” The doors moved silently behind him, gently closing. For my part, it was rather more than the sun and the massage that was making me tingle. I dismissed the tod at the piano, thanking him, and then called for my companion as I shrugged on a silk robe. “Come, Omega. I want to visit the library. There’s a little reading I would like to do for tonight.” Omega perked her ears, and trotted after me obediently. The doors clicked open for me… …and revealed Beta, dressed in a skirt suit. Very tasteful. “Ah. The fur of business this afternoon, Beta.” Beta glared at me, and then looked down at Omega, and her eyes widened. The wolfess, for her part, looked own at herself and realized that, in all probability, Beta considered her overdressed. Probably an accurate guess, as an angry brown paw reached out for Omega and her collar. I stepped slightly to the side, blocking Beta. “Yes?” Beta stepped slightly to the side to get at Omega again, and I matched her. “I would think, Beta, that you have other tasks on your mind. Such a busy evening in store. I, of course, look forward to seeing a demonstration of your perfection in these matters. For now, some light reading. Omega is with me, of course. You will not be needing her, I presume?” I looked her right in the eye, and unsheathed my claws very subtly. Beta got the message, and didn’t like it one bit. “Until 7.30, then. You will be on time, won’t you? Don’t be late. Come, Omega.” Omega gave a fearful glance at Beta, and kept very close to my heels. I hated to turn my back on my hostess, but I wasn’t going to show one ounce of fear to her. That’s the only way to deal with those kinds of femmes. *****
The mephitess in the library was brisk and efficient, as one would expect from a fur in such a responsible position. I was able to collect the pawful of textbooks, numbers of Jane’s Defence Weekly (showing that Forrester was well aware of the dangerous area he was in), and a few selected novels. One might ask what on Earth I was up to, but I did, in fact, have a plan, which involved cramming. Rather like the oral exams I once had to take, in fact, though the stakes, in my view, were rather higher this time around (no matter what my father, the payer of tuition, would have said). Omega eyed the bed, and it was fairly obvious that she wanted to try it out. I gave her the eye, and wagged a finger gently, which sufficed to remind her of her position. However, she readily accepted a pile of blankets near my feet, and left me to my reading. Hmmm. This is easier than I remembered. Yes, and if you had been intelligent, and not sampling the fleshpots of Boston, you would have done better. Hey, I made Dean’s List! By the skin of your teeth. But I do concede your point: this seems familiar. Or, at any event, logical on a quick skim. What the hell is this all about, anyway? Well, I’m sure that the Baron and the others aren’t interested in assorted, exciting tales of airframe corrosion or the like. You never know. I rather doubt it. Now, please allow me to concentrate. I did have one eye on the clock, calculating when I would have to summon my maids to prepare me so that, as Mr. Forrester said, I would appear like a pilot, exactly on time. It is elemental manners, in any event. There was a fairly constant buzz of orders being given by the organ, but it provided mere background, consisting as it did largely of last-second checks regarding the arrangements for the guests’ chauffeurs, progress on the menu, and so forth. Huh? Don’t be obtuse. You said yourself at dinner last night how it worked, and that was correct. But… It’s really quite simple, but I am rather pre-occupied, and I do not have the time to explain things to you. If you cannot keep up, remain silent. A glance at the panel told me that it was time to put away my preparation of one kind, and commence the other kind of preparation. For what I had in mind, this would be of equal importance. I’ll bet. Desist. The Thirty-Fours, as before, drew some hot water and gave me a careful sponge-bath. The bathroom door had been closed, but upon hearing some whining, I relented and let Omega come in and observe. Hey! What IS it?! Are you going to…you know… Pray do not bore me with your middle-class foibles. In fact, you are boring me altogether. But…hey, you were the who told me I was spoiling Omega, how come you’ve… Quiet. Now. I command it. A careful ration of scented talc, and then the undergarments. Omega continued to watch over me, like a good wolf. It was thus that she heard the pawsteps in the hall first. Luckily for her, it was merely one of the other members of the staff, who held out a velvet box and a note from my host. I bade him to wait, and opened the box first. I gave a small gasp when I saw the contents. It was a necklace of tasteful and elegant design, consisting largely of two thinly braided wires of gold that ran through a series of circular stones of varying sizes. They were too big to be diamonds, but nevertheless they were faceted with obvious precision. Quartz, from the feel, which was deliciously warm to the touch. “Miss Hunter – I take the decided liberty of requesting that you wear the enclosed necklace tonight. One of my many interests is design, and from what I saw this afternoon in the Day Room, I believe that only you can do justice to this particular piece of worksfurship. It is my own creation, crude as it is. One should never dictate to a femmefur what to wear for a party, but I hope you will excuse this lapse in the observation of (prudent) tradition for my sake. I remain Your obedient servant, LDF” This required an immediate response. “Dear Mr. Forrester! I am THRILLED with both your taste and your thoughtfulness in allowing me to wear your creation. If I give you one-tenth of the pleasure that you are giving me with this gesture, I will count myself very fortunate indeed. Your obedient servant, Alatheia” The messenger, having been given the reply, was dismissed. “Look, Omega! Isn’t it simply wonderful?” I held the necklace up against myself for her inspection. Omega put her paw on my knee and sniffed at the necklace. Her ears twitched, and then drooped a bit. I stroked them. “Now, don’t be sad, Omega. This is only because I am one of dear Mr. Forrester’s guests, I’m sure. Come now, perk up your ears and tell me which dress will show it off best.” I went through the rack of dresses, and held them up against me for the inspection of both Omega and myself. One of them made her tail wag. “What, the Prussian Blue? Hmmm. Well, it’s right for my hair…it’s right for my stockings…ah, and yes, it’s strapless. Yes, that will show the necklace off delightfully. Yes, I agree.” I leaned down and gave Omega a smooch on the nose. Omega blinked, startled, and then seemed quite lost in her thoughts. No matter. The Thirty-Fours helped me on with my dress and my shoes, but the privilege of putting on the Necklace I reserved for myself. How right that wonderful buck was! It did flatter me, and was not the slightest bit vulgar. It was the finishing touch, and it made me excited and impatient to start the evening. The last-minute brushing of my head-fur was accompanied by some very cheerful humming, indeed. “Thirty-Four A and Thirty-Four B, you may be dismissed for the evening, I shan’t need you later. I am pleased with your service.” My maids gave their synchronized curtsey, and departed. “Omega, you may stay here. And don’t be naughty and climb on the bed, hmmm?” Omega paid little attention to what I said, as she was lost in her own thoughts. She did look at me once or twice, tilting her head. Or, rather, she was looking at the Necklace. 7.26 and thirty-five seconds. Time for a stately entrance. *****
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