A World of InTemperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 2) (22 page)

Chapter Twenty Five.
The Winds of Woe.

P.O.V. Ichabod

“It feels good to be standing in Phlaurrpaattz.”

“Indeed, Mr. Cogito, I could put down roots here.”

“Roof!”

“Golly, this Norwegian Aerodrome is busier than a stirred up anthill. These folks are in a panic!”

“It’s not surprising, Ichabod. I direct your visual inputs toward the selection of newspapers.”

WAR! WAR! WAR!

The Danish Detriment

KING HOUHAUGH STAUPHER THREATENS PULL-OUT!

In a rare appearance, King HouHaugh Staupher, of the House Hangover, vows to back his assets up from their pledged place in Zirconia’s rear, exposing her flanks.

The Prussian Examiner

GLORY AND HONOR PROMISED FOR THOSE THAT SURVIVE!

This newspaper and any other remaining newspapers proudly proclaim our support for the bloodthirsty leaders of our happy land.

The Italian Innuendo

WATCHA OUTSA WORLD, WE GETSA REALLY MAD!

In an impassioned, yet little-understood plea, our leaders gestured and we cheered. They looka really mad, so we are pretty mad also, I tell you. Better watcha out! Thisa means the War!

The Polish AquaNaut

BLOATED NAVAL DEPT PIERCED BY BOUNTMUFFIN’S TOP

For another year, Poland’s Navy has lain in her fields and rusted. There was plenty of funding when it came to building our glorious Navy, but now when the time has come to actually get her to the Ocean, well, that just never seems to be in the budget. Meanwhile, our wessels sit and rust.

The Empire EnCompasser

“Like England Herself, We EnGulf the Globe.”

PEACE CONFERENCE CONSIDERED WASTE OF TIME!

WHY BOTHER? EXPERTS ASK

With the clouds of war building over the continent, many feel that the Peace Conference, set in Gerbilbiit, Hockeylavakia, is already doomed to failure.

“Well, Mr. Cogito.”

“Yes, Mr. Temperance?”

“Looks like we’re scampering off to Gerbilbiit.”

Chapter Twenty Six.
Sabotagy.

P.O.V. P.T. Piston

“That’s it, Metzger. Straight across as you have it. Now the harnesses should have a curve to them. No, that’s too high.”

“How is this then, Herr Piston?”

“Almost, Metzger. Stay with it. You’re getting the idea for what I want. There should be a forward slant to it, as well. We have to allow for the curving of their broad backs.”

“Ja, P. T., I understand.”

Murray was lucky to draft Metzger into our service. He is a really a talented artist. Wolfgang’s ability to transfer my ideas to paper is incredible! The blueprints he has drawn up are more than just functional diagrams from which to build the weapons of our fight, but wonderful works of art. They are so pleasing to the eye that they disguise their destructive capabilities.

“That’s right. I think you’ve just about got it. Now, the whales will still need a way to get air, so a certain amount of leeway up and down is required.”

“Ja. I get it, but it is the releasing mechanisms I am concerned vith. The vhales vill need to be able to disengage from zee projectile.”

“I’m gonna need you to develop some engineering skills, young man.”

“Ja, I vish I had mein friend Icky to help me.”

Metzger misses his human companions, but my thoughts are with my aquatic friends. They need my help. These are friends that I have an unshakable bond with through years of shared service. Commodore SilverQuarter has been a loyal friend through good times and bad. I had better make sure Murray is getting his end accomplished.

“Where is James?”

“Here I am, P.T., and have I got a lunch for you! Blubber burgers, seaweed fries, and real, artificial sardine flavored shakes. Oh yeah, I got fish eggs to dip the seaweed in.”

I’ll give this to Agent Murray, he’s got good taste in food.

“Murray, what’s your status?”

“Rrr-gunlrk!”

“Swallow your food and report!”

~Gulp!
Buh
-urp!~
“Roight!
Sah!
This Secret Agent has seen to the special order requirements of your very specific orders,
Sah!

“Good. Did you have any trouble finding the harnesses?”

“No, Sir! It turns out this town has a wide variety of that sort of thing. Finding a ‘Bridal Shoppe’, was very easy.”

“I said ‘
bridle
shoppe.’”

“Oh. … Well! They had all the harnesses we required and were happy to place an order for the ‘specialty’ gear.”

“Okay, Herr Piston. Vee vant the full story.”

“Yeah, C’mon P.T. You’ve just gotta have an interesting willagong for us!”

~Sigh.~

Maybe they’re right. Maybe I should just go ahead and level with them.

“I endanger you two by telling you this, but I figure you’re entitled to know. In the summer of ‘69, I was just another ‘Emperor’ Penguin. Then the Revelatory Comet passed the Earth and my intelligence went off the scale. I met up with other aquatics with raised intelligence. We were recruited by Her Majesty’s Secret Service. I was trained by a then ‘Captain’ SilverQuarter; I saw him get his well deserved promotion to Commodore. When I reported my findings on the ‘Sin-dicate’, it was too late. There were already highly placed government agents that had enough clout to thwart my efforts at an investigation. I got ‘Freezer-Burned’ out of the ‘Company.’ The Commodore and I have remained in touch. He got wind of this whole ‘Take over the World’ plot. He tried to take it upstairs. ‘Management’ shut him down. He brought me in from the outside. He’s been working one fin in with ‘Management’ and one fin in with his old aqua friends.”

“Not all of this material is to help with defeating warships. Some is for defeating netting.”

“I still have loyalty to my friends, Metzger!”

I should not have lost my cool like that.

“Sorry, Wolfgang. I want to help all sentients, not just mankind. There were smart mammals in the oceans before the Comet, but now, intelligent dolphins, porpoises, and whales are all too common to allow their slaughter to go ignored. Besides, the netting figures heavily into my war plans.”

“You’re arming the dolphins?”

“It’s a rough world we live in. I can’t just sit by and watch a self-aware creature be slaughtered.”

“How did you get Agent Murray assigned to help you, Mein Herr Piston?”

“Commodore SilverQuarter thought it best to send an agent that no one would notice was missing.”

“Vot about his double ‘O’ rating?”

“That’s his I.Q.”

“Roight! Hunh?”

“Our plans are toward disrupting naval strategies. How are we to defy the mighty Zeppelin fleets of these Pacific powers?”

“I have been working towards that end for months, now, Wolfgang.”

“How can you hope to defeat vast air armadas? You’re just a talking fish!”

“I’m not a fish, Murray! I’m a bird! And if you want to live to see the other end of this assignment, you will do well to remember that fact!”

“Roight!
Sah!
Yes!
Sah!

From Metzger: “Just one more thing, Herr Piston.”

“What’s that, Metzger?”

“Penguins are from the Southern Hemisphere. Antarctica. How did you get all the way to Alaska?”

“I’m a very resourceful fellow, Mr. Metzger.”

Chapter Twenty Seven.
Brewski.

P.O.V. DeeDee

“I say, what a, ah, charming décor, but we could quite do with a bit of ventilation, eh hem?”

Plumtartt makes the scrunchy-nose face as she gives the over-large cauldron, a disapproving look. Centrally situated so to be the focus of attention in the cavernous hall, the thick goo boils at an excruciatingly slow pace, reluctantly releasing its bubbles with slow motion, wet plops. Mon Dieu, that kettle is as big as a large swimming pool! The green flames are plenty eerie, I think, too!

“Don’t touch any of this electrical or scientific apparatus. This stuff is in a high state of readiness to my eyes.”

Oh, Abigail, is it not obvious? The mechanical nature of these machines, they cover the walls of this giant hall. The bulkheads are filled in every direction with the futuristic contraptions. The wires and workachoc climb into the vast, unseen ceilings. Their purposes mysterious, I think, they pulse the atmosphere with the secret machinations.

This vast, cavernous, ballroom: it is the center of the ‘Emerald Citadel,’ I think, too. Passages lead in all directions from this focus of the structure’s architecture.

Hundreds of people do little to fill this huge room. Many give the impression of those who would cling to this strange community as cult sycophants. Some, dressed in long white frocks, appear to be lending technical assistance to the operations of the mechanical bizarre bazaar. There is a relaxed and celebratory feel in the cool air, an anticipation of great things in store.

~Sigh.~

Once again, it falls on Mademoiselle to be the gracious one.

“Bonjour, ladies and gentlemen! What lovely people! So nice to be in your company. We are here to join zee partee, I think! Oui!”

{{{{* “YES!” *}}}}

All goes quiet.

That voice, with its husky undertone of animal femininity: somehow, it travels throughout and fills the quartz cathedral. The entire room, revelers, scientists, curious onlookers: it’s hard to tell what all these people are doing here, I think, but I can tell that they are enthralled by the entrancing vibrations of that single word! Even I, Mademoiselle DeeDee, am strangely affected by the sultry tone!

Like a panther, she is barely able to contain her aura of sensuality.

From another room, yet in a way, from another time, this goddess of prehistoric man’s ideal woman prowls her entrance. Wrought in living colour, a red mane of hair flames above her head. The relentless throb of passionate flesh, struggles to be contained within her bunny-fur bikini. She moves like a smoothly gliding lioness of lust.

I am bedazzled by this devilish woman.

No woman on Earth should have that much raw erotic power in her body’s possession!

One of the girls cannot help but to gush loudly:

“My devotion is like a Rock. Elle won’t Welsh on her loyalty!”

I am struck with the awe! My eyes cannot be pulled away from the compelling vision.

“I have watched the progress of your investigation to find me with great interest.”

Just a touch of Latin flavour enhances her beguiling voice. The sparkle of life itself jumps in electric sparks from her laughing eyes.

“I say, what a delight it is to make your acquaintance, Madame. We are but the latest batch of courtesans to come through your delightfully frigid dungeon, eh hem? What a charming chateau. Yes. Quite. My name is Persephone. Yours would be?”

“My name can wait, Miss Plumtartt. Miss Persephone Plumtartt. And the vigorous Miss Abigail GoldenBear. Plus an unexpected treat: I have heard of the famous Mademoiselle DeeDee Gauzot. We have been expecting you. I am thrilled to have you ladies visit me at my moment of triumph!”

“You’re not going to enjoy any triumphs, lady.”

“Oh, but I shall, Abigail. I only allowed you to survive this long because it amused me to do so.”

“I say, we are sworn to stop your insidious plot of world domination, though we would so appreciate a quick run-through of how you intend to accomplish it, eh hem? I also feel compelled to inform you we enjoy the assistance of very capable operatives as our partners. Even now, they move to stop your evil plot, whatever it is.”

“Ha, ha!”

Our well-formed and well-informed foe, laughs at us in hurtful derision.

“Those fools in the Pacific have been assassinated.”

“Wolfgang!”

“The lovesick puppy of the North, exterminated.”

“Ichabod!”

“Even without killing those insignificant ants, my ascension to power is inescapable!”

White teeth flash as brightly as her fiery eyes.

“Immortality shall be reserved for me alone;

Derriere Eternia!

Chapter Twenty Eight.
Homesick.

P.O.V. Madame Pâte à Glacer

The Portland TattleTale.

SECRETARY OF WAR SEIZES POWER!

“We cannot afford to leave strategic thought to these political amateurs,” proclaims United States Secretary of War, Insufferable Bleiuman Iddiaught. “The President would do well to stay out of my way.”

The Western Comet.

PRESIDENT CLAIMS TO BE AWAKE!

Despite every appearance of having lost control of his cabinet and his military, our illustrious President of these United States vows to rein in his out-of-control generals. No one takes the silly fellow seriously.

The San Diego Snipe Trap.

SHIPS SAIL HARBOR!
AIR-CRAFT FLY COOP!

In an unprecedented show of military might, the U.S. Naval Fleet has set sail from our shores. The U.S. Naval Air Fleet darkened the skies with their magnificent passage.

 

“I must say, Madame Pâte à Glacer, I normally do not allow myself to get upset at political intrigues; however, the appalling state of our World’s governments is causing me some concern.”

“Oh! Oui! I agree Miss Wilma! These naughty hacks are the outrage! How am I to enjoy my full and hearty breakfast? Nevertheless, I shall try, first partaking of smoked and honey-cured back bacon, my ham seared to a perfect pink presentation. How it infuriates me that I do not fully get to enjoy my fried tomatoes, fried mushrooms, fried breads, fried eggs the way I so normally do. To be denied the simple pleasure of savoring these crisp little patties of the feisty and amorously driven salmon. I can barely force myself to gain the sustenance I require to continue with these tempting delights. This collection of sausages sings to me, oui, from where they were collected along every port of any importance on Washington’s, British Columbia’s, and Alaska’s Pacific coasts. These politicians with no concern for the people they are supposed to represent, they are a betrayal of the people’s trust! When I am through breakfasting on my assorted puddings and toasts, the condiments so inviting, I might get very upset. Generous amounts of butter tempt me to follow their creamy goodness with choices from an exotic and colorful bounty of marmalades, jellies and jams. They can almost distract me from the folly of man.”

“Bear up, Madame Pâte à Glacer.”

“As it stands, Miss Wilma, sliced peaches shall suffice to fulfill my fruit requirements for now. I wish to allow this cleverly constructed pyramid of fruit that so charmingly decorates our table to survive unharmed.”

“You are ever the considerate lady, Madame.”

“These shipboard chefs, they are almost as good as some of our chefs back in Louisiana, I think!”

“Close but not quite.”

“I can see, however, that you, Miss Wilma, my traveling companion, are still upset. I do not like to see the elegant Miss Wilma Altamont distressed. Not to worry, Miss Wilma! You and I shall speak to our President and let our clear heads prevail over these troubling scenarios.”

“Will we make it in time, do you think, Madame Pâte à Glacer?”

“Sacre bleu! If I must, then I, Madame Pâte à Glacer, shall hold my pistol to the pilot of this craft until we are at full speed and we have been crashed ashore at the most convenient spot!”

“I am so relieved that cooler heads shall prevail.”

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