The Ultimate Prize

Nick Michael

CHAPTER TWO

KING STRAT

Sitting at his desk in his office on Earth, Moist read three books simultaneously. One was an apparently impenetrable ancient Chinese discourse on the art of war. The second was a treatise in hyper-advanced computer programming, whilst the third dealt with incredibly complex abstract Buddhist and Taoist spiritual concepts.

He tossed the books onto his desk. Kid's stuff.

'God I'm bored,' he complained to Lissa, his personal assistant.

'Can I get you something from the cafeteria? How about a hot chocolate and a Danish pastry?'

'Yes, thanks Lissa.'

But he knew they would only momentarily stave off the tedium. He was beginning to wonder why he had taken this job as Director of the Institute of Really Clever Stuff. It was so...prosaic. OK - the pay was outrageously good. But it was duller than a eunuch's sex life. Moist was capable of managing ten major corporations in his sleep. Where was the action?

That was the trouble with being a genius. Everything was so god dammed easy.

He checked his watch. Thank God. He had visitors in ten minutes. Hardly challenging but at least it would pass the time.

Moist extended his hand to Strethlo-gropath-rawthrew-dalian, who proffered a tentacle in return. His colleague Tycorecastweelian-stamter-castrean also exchanged pleasantries.

'Nice to meet you. Welcome to the Institute. Let me take you on a tour of our facilities.' They wandered down the corridor.

'We call this the "fish tank".'

'Why the name?'

Top

'Well some of these guys hardly ever come out for air. You know what computer programmers are like. Excuse me a moment.'

Moist had noticed that his two guests were leaving a nasty slime trail behind them. He stepped away and surreptitiously punched a miniature hand-held computer which instructed the Institute's maintenance robots to clean it up. Then he reprogrammed the cafeteria's virtual menu by taking octopus off the menu. He was waging that his guests weren't cannibals.

'Sorry about that. OK, where were we? Come and have a look at this over here.'

'What is it?'

'It's a new machine we're developing.' It appeared to be a huge box bristling with dials and instruments. 'Sorry, I can't say too much about it except to say that this could revolutionise energy production.'

'Interesting. We are short of energy on our world. Will it go into commercial production?'

'The trials so far look good. We're filing for patents.'

'Is it safe?'

'Seems to be. And it has a small ecological footprint.' Unlike you lot, thought Moist.

'So what are your areas of expertise?' he asked his visitors.

'Board games.'

'Really? Which aspects of them in particular?'

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'We're trying to create a new board game which will take off across the galaxy. It's based on set theory and is designed to promote galactic peace and understanding.'

'How laudable. Shall we go to the cafeteria for some refreshments?'

'Yes please. I'm starving,' said Strethlo-gropath-rawthrew-dalian.

'Me too,' added Tycorecastweelian-stamter-castrean.

They entered the restaurant. Moist collected trays and cutlery for his visitors.

Suddenly there was uproar in the canteen. Moist turned around to see that both of his visitors had climbed into the ornamental aquarium and were wolfing down fish.

'Err, that's a decoration, the food is through there,' said Moist.

The two octopus-based life forms clambered out, red with embarrassment.

'I'm so sorry, we thought...'

'That's alright,' said Moist, trying to smooth the waters over. 'It was an easy misunderstanding.'

Top

He noticed that the fish tank only had two fish left in it.

They went to the counter and Moist paid for refreshments.

'Director Moist, we have a question for you.'

'Go ahead.'

'Well, I hope you don't mind my saying so, but you have a very strange name,' commented Strethlo-gropath-rawthrew-dalian. 'What does it signify?'

'Actually it is a nickname. It stands for Master Of Intelligence, Strategy and Tactics. It's the acronym they gave me whilst I was at school.'

'I see.'

'Can I ask you something?'

'Yes. What is it?'

'In the history of your planet, what interpretation do you place on the myth of Fertenshelterwestnoturthastor?'

Strethlo-gropath-rawthrew-dalian and Tycorecastweelian-stamter-castrean nearly dropped their drinks.

'Where did you find out about that?' they asked, astonished.

'Oh I dabble in all sorts of things,' replied Moist.

'Well, in answer to your question, some of our people treat the legend as the literal truth, whilst others are sceptical.'

'Which view predominates?'

'A hundred years ago it would have been the literalists, but these days they are outnumbered by sceptics.'