“Tell them to be careful with my armor, Mr. Mishaps,” Sir Grumdish croaked. “He’ll come apart with all that jerking and bouncing.”
“He will?” Chief Portlost exclaimed. “You mean there’s someone inside that armor? Why doesn’t anyone tell me these things?” He shouted into the beer mug-they called it a mugraphone-”Carefully, you lot of boot-scrapings! Gently, now! And someone alert the Mishaps Guild! Tell them to be ready!”
Commodore Brigg continued the introductions, “And this, Chief Portlost, is Professor Hap-Troggensbottle, our science officer.”
The professor shook the chiefs hand so vigorously that it made the zippers jingle on his white jumpsuit.
“Ah, Professor!” the chief greeted just as vigorously in return, rattling his fellow gnome’s teeth. “I’ve heard a great deal about you-only favorably of course. We are glad you’ll be coming along for this little jaunt.”
“Jaunt? It seemed rather more like a dangerous voyage of weighty consequence, to me,” the professor commented huffily.
“Dangerous? Who says so? This ship is sound enough to balance eggs on her deck in a high sea. Two kender and a trained gully dwarf could run her in their sleep-not that I’d let them! And no offense intended to our chief acquisitions officer,” he finished with a nod to the kender.
“None taken,” Razmous answered with a sly smile.
“Of course you know Navigator Snork and…” the commodore paused, looking Conundrum over with an appraising eye. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
“Conundrum,” Snork said quickly. “You haven’t met. Conundrum is my cousin, delegate from the Guild of PuzzlesRiddlesEnigmasEtcetera. '
“Come to see us off, eh?” the commodore said as he shook hands with Conundrum. “Should be quite a show.”
“Actually… that is… I, urn… the guild was wondering if he couldn’t sign on with us,” Snork said. “It fits in with his Life Quest, you see.”
“Really? You don’t say,” Commodore Brigg said excitedly. “Are you going to solve the riddle of the seven seas? I’ve been wondering about that appellation for years. I only count four-North Sirrion Sea, South Sirrion Sea, New Sea, and the Blood Sea of Istar.”
“What about Courrain?” Razmous interjected.
,'Courrain is an ocean, not a sea! Any idiot knows that,” the commodore muttered with a fierce glance at the kender. “Besides, that would make only five, wouldn’t it?”
“Actually, his Life Quest doesn’t really have anything to with the sea,” Snork interrupted tentatively.
“No?”
Clearing his throat, Conundrum glanced at those gathered around him-the grim-faced Sir Grumdish, the smiling Razmous, and his encouraging and nodding cousin Snork. Professor Hap-Troggensbottle removed a pair of concave/convex lenses from his breast pocket and perched them on the end of his long nose to scrutinize him, while Chief Engineer Portlost fingered his directing wrench as though preparing to tighten a nut at a moment’s notice-or else clout someone over the head.
“So, do tell-what experience have you aboard ships?
What exactly is it that you plan to do, my good gnome?” Commodore Brigg asked.
“I am very good at waiting,” Conundrum answered forthrightly.
“A waiter?” Razmous asked. “Oh, that will be convenient, having a waiter onboard, bringing us sandwiches and whatnot.”
“No, I wait,” Conundrum repeated, interrupting the kender with a dark look. “I wait until I am inspired,” and then, raising his voice slightly in what he hoped was an impressive tone, he added, “until it is time to
“Hmm, I see,” the commodore mused as he stroked his long white eyebrows. “All that and riddle-solving too. A most unusual Life Quest. You could prove useful, for we never know when “the time” might come. And as luck would have it, the ship is designed for twenty and we have only nineteen. You seem more than qualified to fill that empty seat. Welcome aboard, Ensign Conundrum! You will be chief officer in charge of, hmmm… let’s see. How about seating? Chief Officer in Charge of Seating.”
Everyone gathered around to give Conundrum many a congratulatory smack on the back or tug of the beard, while the commodore strode about beaming with pride and trying to hitch his thumbs behind the suspenders he wasn’t wearing. He also checked his watch, then remembered he hadn’t invented one yet. When everyone had finished pummeling the newest member of the crew, the commodore turned to Chief Portlost. “Is everything ready? How soon can we launch?”
“Not until all my instruments are aboard,” a voice answered him from the ship. Waddling down the gangplank came the owner of the voice-a short, enormously fat gnome wearing a tight blue jumpsuit stretched over his rolls and bulges. The gangplank creaked under his mass, bending dangerously in the middle. “This ship doesn’t sail-or dive or whatever it does-until I, as medical officer, say so.”
“Doctor Bothy,” the commodore explained, introducing him with a gesture. There were nods and handshakes all around. “His Life Quest is to discover a foolproof cure for hiccups.”
“Hiccoughs, sir! Hiccoughs! Hiccups are child’s play. Why, I could cure your hiccups with a snap of my fingers,” the portly doctor said, demonstrating beneath the commodore’s nose. “Hiccups are commonplace, while hiccoughs have been a mystery to the medical sciences for generations. Why, if one could cure hiccoughs, one could cure any number of involuntary spasms of the primary musculature. Take yawns, for example. Or blinking. I estimate that approximately thirteen hundred gnome hours are wasted every year with blinking. Imagine the savings, the increase in productivity, if we could but do away with blinking!”
“But what about the drying of the orbital surfaces?” the professor asked with the avidity of a fellow scientist.
“A simple device could be invented, not unlike your spectacles, which periodically squirts soothing fluids into the eyes. I should know. I’ve already invented it,” Doctor Bothy declared humbly.
“Sounds fascinating,” the professor agreed.
“A squirting device?” Razmous asked. “Actually, I think I have something here in pouches that is quite similar, if only…”he muttered as he began to rummage through his pouches.
“Another time,” the doctor said with a sharp glance.
“What medical equipment have you still to load?” the commodore asked with rising impatience.
“Just my Peerupitscope. It is on its way from Mount Nevermind, but they are having some trouble with the mule train transportation system,” Doctor Bothy said.
“Mules? How quaint! Why don’t they use our newer, mechanical transportation systems?” Commodore Brigg asked.
“The Coastandroll is still down for repairs. They are having trouble with the braking system, which, if not resolved, may reclassify the steam-powered rail cars as a system for launching heavy projectiles. The Weapons Guild seems most interested in its applications. Besides, the Peerupitscope is too long to make the corners.”
“Can’t we get along without it?” the commodore asked. “I am anxious to set sail.”
“Why take the risk? The Peerupitscope is an invaluable tool of the medical sciences. With it, we can look into matters previously hidden from our knowledge.”
“Oh, very well,” Commodore Brigg said as he turned and stalked up the gangplank. “Only remember, we have a schedule to keep. We sail in three days!”
Chapter
5
The morning of the launch of the MNS
Hundreds of gnomes gathered along the bluff overlooking the shipyard where the
