March: A Tale of Salmon and Swedes (The Glothic Tales Book 4) Read online

  Although he maintained a very low public profile: so much so that very few people even knew of him, let alone his name, he was of course extremely well connected. Attaining enormous wealth, and power, starts at a very early age, and for Diddle, it began with friendships he developed while studying early Myscopinian and Musciadantropican poetry at university. Famed as the most complex poetry ever to be committed to paper, as few scholars, in the millions of years since the twelve, one thousand page tomes were written, had ever been able to decipher much more than that most of the poems had something to do with fish, and that there were vague, and often cryptic references to an abbey of monks, who it seems, may have invented the game of backgammon.

  In his thesis, Diddle won acclaim for deciphering from the ancient texts that one particular species of fish was mentioned more than any other. Salmon. Stating in his thesis that he had not a doubt salmon was worshipped; probably by the cryptically mentioned monks, he concluded that this reverence, combined with the fact that the salmon was probably revered during religious ceremonies, which of course would have taken place out of water, led to the decline and eventual extinction of the salmon from Myscopinia and Musciadantropica. He deduced, from logic, that the salmon, which was unlikely to survive a long and tedious sermon, followed by lots of chanting and candle burning, and then a few boring readings, was probably dead before the end of the first sermon, so was then consumed as part of a ritual feast, after the monks had finished doing all their chanting and reading. Then, as religions tend to grow very quickly in popularity, especially if a good feed of salmon is involved, the few surrounding planets, which were also home to the revered fish, also suffered from salmon extinction.

  However brilliant his thesis was, the smartest thing by far that Diddle did at university was to become very good friends with a young February Gregorian, the eldest son of the then Supreme Potentate. It was a friendship that would become mutually beneficial and extremely profitable, and last a very, very long time indeed.

  The second smartest thing Diddle did, soon after leaving university, was to get into organising rock concerts, but he soon realised that he could only sell the precise number of tickets that a single venue could hold, which, while it made a small profit, was not very lucrative. When he investigated the idea of broadcasting these concerts, another good friend from university, who had studied holography, suggested he might use hologramatics, which would in essence, allow him to stage one live concert at two different venues, at the very same time.

  While it took a few years to perfect, Diddle’s hologramatic rock concerts were so real, no one could tell which one was the original, and which ones were hologramatic. Therefore, he could sell thousands of tickets to the very same concert, at the very same time, at multiple venues. With his friend’s technical expertise, and his other friend, February, opening doors for him on planet after planet, Diddle was able to build his first business empire; selling millions of tickets to the one live concert, which simultaneously played on hundreds of planets, moons and asteroids.

  *****

  When March and Trys arrived back home a little after two, by their fourth taxi ride home for the day, with their fourth load of shopping bags full of Abba CDs, DVDs, Blu-rays, assorted computer games and memorabilia, they were both exhausted. Trys had also bought, on their third shopping expedition, two iPads, ten thumb drives plus a laptop computer. She was one step ahead of March, who couldn’t understand why she was buying them, until she explained that she was going to search for, buy, download and store as much Abba digital media as she could find before his return journey.

  ‘You never know what these technical people need to work with, March, so this will help them have plenty of options. And anyway, its lighter.’

  The only small hitch for the day came when they had ventured back into the HMV store on Oxford Street, and the store manager, who was alerted by a cashier, came running to ask them to leave the store immediately. When Trys explained that it was her, who wanted to buy some items, he relented, but only to the extent that Trys could continue her shopping, only if March immediately left the store. Embarrassed and dejected, but knowing how important it was to make these purchases, March obeyed, reluctantly, and stood outside on the pavement. He cut a lone figure, standing right in the very middle of the pavement, with his arms angrily crossed, and making grumpy huffing noises, as he made passers-by walk around him, and then finally broke into song in his best baritone voice,

  ‘Can you hear the drums Fernando?

  I remember long ago another starry night like this

  In the firelight Fernando

  You were humming to yourself and softly strumming your guitar

  I could hear the distant drums

  And sounds of bugle calls were coming from afar

  They were closer now Fernando

  Every hour every minute seemed to last eternally

  I was so afraid Fernando

  We were young and full of life and none of us prepared to die

  And I'm not ashamed to say

  The roar of guns and cannons almost made me cry,’ until he was interrupted by a police officer.

  ‘Is everything all right here, sir?’

  ‘Oh yes. I’m just waiting for a lady friend to finish her shopping.’

  ‘Understood. But you’ll move on when she’s finished?’

  ‘Oh, certainly.’

  ‘Very well, but not too loud now, ok?’

  ‘As you said; understood, officer.’

  ‘There was something in the air that night

  The stars were bright, Fernando

  They were shining there for you and me

  For liberty, Fernando

  Though we never thought that we could lose

  There's no regret

  If I had to do the same again

  I would, my friend, Fernando.’

  *****

  As Trys made some quick sandwiches for a late lunch, March busied himself doing a stocktake of their purchases, and ticking off the list of all known Abba recordings, which Trys had printed out for him before they started their shopping expedition early that morning.

  His Q’muniktor beeped. The message read, ‘Shuttle arranged for 03 hundred, morning of day 7, month 5, Earth time. Send collection coordinates by return. Major Amnya Trimli.’

  He left what he was doing to show the message to Trys.

  ‘That’s tomorrow night, well, very late tomorrow night anyway. Ok, the sandwiches are ready, so lets eat first, then I’ll get your return trip organised.’

  She quickly set the kitchen table with plates, and they hopped into their lunch of ham and cheese sandwiches.

  ‘I am still at a loss as to why Mr. Diddle is prepared to pay so much wealth for this Abba music. I mean, I like it, a lot I must say, but I don’t see how a few songs can be worth Centuries,’ March said.

  ‘Oh I think Mr. Dum Dum Diddle is a very astute businessman. Abba were, in their heyday, popular in every single country on the planet here, and continue to be, even though they haven’t recorded anything new in decades. Their popularity crosses race, colour, religion, beliefs and cultures, and I think Mr. Diddle recognised this universal attraction immediately. I have a feeling that Abba will be extremely popular from Terranova Two to the Trundll Asteroid, and from reptilian Lacertilians to the four-headed people of Outer Multitudinous, and beyond. Mr. Diddle is no dumb dumb at all. Universal popularity of a product is extremely rare, and infinitely valuable, so he’s prepared to pay now to get total control over the distribution of Abba throughout the Twelve Sun Systems, and will surely make a handsome return on his investment.’

  ‘And I only liked them.’

  ‘You’re not a businessman then, March, and nor am I.’

  ‘Maybe because we don’t have Centuries in the EdErg to invest.’

  ‘Ah, you may have a point there.’

  ‘I must say that I am not looking forward to my return journey,’ March said, changing the subject rather suddenly, a
s he reached for another delicately cut triangular sandwich – without crusts.

  ‘Because it’s so soon, or because it’s uncomfortable? I had hoped you might be staying a little longer. Selfish of me I know, but I had looked forward to a little Glothic company.’

  ‘Um, well, both, and I’m sorry. I had planned to stay longer. But why don’t you return to Gloth? I’m sure a replacement could be found quite easily, so there’s nothing stopping you.’

  ‘It’s funny you know. I did have thoughts of returning with you at the end of your stay here, but as it has been so quick, well, only a few days in fact, it’s not possible. On top of that, I will now have to manage the results of your, um, how can I say this? Your lucky Abba deal?’

  ‘It has been a lucky accident, hasn’t it?’

  ‘Perhaps, but if it achieves your aim in coming here; to increase Earth’s contribution to Gloth’s wealth, well, your short mission will have been a success, and your father will be very pleased with you.’

  March looked down at his sandwich for a long moment. ‘I suppose you know that there has never been a Supreme Potentate named March. While every other name is up to its umpteenth ordinal number, there has never been a single Supreme Potentate called March. All the rightful heirs in history carrying the name March have either died young, perished at sea, committed suicide, been executed, poisoned, imprisoned, declared legally insane or were deported to distant sterile moons and forgotten. Carrying the name March is a death sentence, so pleasing my father is rather important.’

  ‘And that is why you came here?’

  ‘I had no choice.’

  ‘A chance to prove your worth?’

  ‘That is all that heirs ever do.’

  ‘Too true, sadly. Your father had a fearful battle with his cousin, August, and his family allies, which all ended very tragically for August, before your father finally became Supreme Potentate.’

  ‘Survival of the fittest, huh?’

  ‘Perhaps you should read the story of February the Fifth again.’

  ‘And learn to play backgammon.’

  ‘Yes, why not?’ Try said, trying a smile to cheer up her guest. It worked, but only slightly. He half smiled back at her, but his eyes did not. She tried again though. ‘Oh come one, March. We’ve got a lot to do this afternoon, so let’s get back to work, and forget about everything except what we can control. Let’s send you back to Gloth safely, make Abba popular, and profitable throughout the Twelve Sun Systems, get a force field upgrade and new entry ports for Earth, and then the whole Glothic empire can happily eat salmon, caviar and oysters; and make more wealth. Everyone will be pleased.’

  ‘The winner takes it all

  The loser's standing small

  Beside the victory

  That's her destiny,’ March quoted, instead of humming or singing, for a change.

  ‘Do you know every Abba song off by heart?’

  ‘I think so.’

  *****

  The logistics made it a little difficult for Tryskolia to decide on, and then organise transport to the coordinates for the shuttle to collect March. With so much that March had to take with him, it was not as simple as a quick one body pick up, late at night in the dark of Hyde Park. Not only were there bags and bags of Abba material, there was also the small matter of fifty-five kilograms of gold that she had stashed in her sideboard, waiting for a suitable shuttle arrival that could transport it to Gloth. This mission she thought, was as good an opportunity as she would get for some time to rid herself of the burden.

  After an hour of thinking and searching, Trys decided on Warburg Nature Reserve in Berkshire, which was about a ninety-minute drive from London. She had used it once before for a shuttle landing, when she had to send a heavy consignment of secretly, and illegally acquired elephant tusks to Gloth.

  With Begrogol horns becoming increasingly scarce, researchers on Gloth saw Earth elephant ivory as a possible alternative source of the rare commodity. Unfortunately however, the master craftsmen of the famed Padnag Inor, a classical musical instrument similar to a very large pipe organ, found that the lack of spiral in elephant ivory failed to produce the silky tones and crystal clear resonance that Begrogol horns were famed for. Jewellery craftsmen also complained that elephant ivory was far too coarse, and therefore completely unsuitable for the Glothic luxury market. Makers of piano accordions had no complaints though; but as the popularity of piano accordions was limited to one small nomadic tribe in the Eighth Sun System, there was little point in going to all the trouble for such an insignificant market. While it ended up being a failed experiment, there was one positive upside – a lot of elephants on Earth were very pleased when they heard the news that their tusks were considered so entirely and totally unsuitable.

  Trys sent a message to Mr. Prescott-Jones, asking if it would be possible for him to supply a driver, and a small van for the journey, and hoped he would respond quickly. It was rare that she asked him for assistance, but as this was a mutually beneficial mission, she believed he would be agreeable. Within an hour he replied, saying that as the matter required the utmost secrecy, he had assigned two senior MI6 agents for, as he put it, ‘such a delicate and pivotal operation.’

  Trys recalled the coordinates she had used for the previous landing at Warburg Nature Reserve from her Q’muniktor, and sent them to Major Amnya Trimli at Glothic High Command.

  With the mission plans arranged, she went to find March. He was at the kitchen table, watching the original broadcast of Abba performing Waterloo at the Eurovision Song Contest on his THE. She sat down next to him, and when he looked up and went to turn it off, she said, ‘no, no, I want to watch it with you.’

  March set it back to the beginning, and hit play.

  My, my, at Waterloo Napoleon did surrender

  Oh yeah, and I have met my destiny in quite a similar way

  The history book on the shelf

  Is always repeating itself…

  ‘Oh, they look beautiful, don’t they?’ Trys said.

  ‘I love Agnetha’s blue satin jump suit, because it’s so totally Glothic high fashion. I recall that you told me that Glothic fashion was definitely not in on Earth,’ March said.

  ‘It isn’t, but perhaps in nineteen seventy-four, it may have been for a few months,’ she laughed.

  Waterloo - I was defeated, you won the war

  Waterloo - Promise to love you forever more

  Waterloo - Couldn't escape if I wanted to

  Waterloo - Knowing my fate is to be with you

  Waterloo - Finally facing my Waterloo.

  ‘Anni-Frid’s silky white blouse, with chains is a bit Glothic, but a pity about her red skirt,’ Trys added.

  ‘What is Sweden?’

  ‘It’s a bit like Norway, but it doesn’t have as many nice crinkly fiords.’

  ‘Right,’ March replied, but as Trys’ answer was too cryptic for him to understand, he went back to watching Agnetha, Benny, Björn and Anni-Frid.

  ‘By the way, everything is ready for your trip back home. Oh, and you’ll have a little excess baggage.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘No, fifty-five kilograms of gold. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to get rid of it, so I can put my nice crockery back in the sideboard.’

  Bon Voyage

  The day of March’s departure passed quickly, as he and Trys finished packing all of the Abba material into ten, small manageable sized packages, as well as strapping the gold bars into five-kilogram bundles; to make it easier when it came time to have them vacuumed up by the teleport. Smaller packages would also make it easier for the pilot to balance the load inside the shuttle. Trys spent an hour buying more digital copies of Abba online, and then spent two hours transferring copies of all the files from the laptop, to the thumb drives and iPads.

  When everything was packed and finally sitting in very neat stacks in the hall, it was past nine in the evening.

  ‘Have you packed your bag, March?’

&nb
sp; ‘Oh, I think I forgot about that. Um, what do you think I should wear tonight?’

  ‘As part of an MI6 operation, and with it being a secret and all, I don’t think your green velvet jump suit and golden pixie slippers would be a very good idea.’

  ‘No?’ March said, somewhat surprised.

  ‘You can get changed later on the shuttle, or the Hoog, if you think you will feel a little embarrassed arriving back on Gloth in jeans, runners and a sweater, but tonight, I think you should go dark and casual.’

  ‘Oh, all right then,’ March sighed, clearly not happy, as he was quite concerned that his Lacertilian shuttle pilot for the evening, who like all Lacertilian pilots, would be impeccably uniformed to the very enth degree, may perhaps be offended by him being so poorly dressed for their formal introductions.

  ‘Well, get a move on. Go and finish your packing and I will order in a pizza.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Look it up on THE while you’re packing. P.i.z.z.a. It’s food that comes from Rome. Oh, what a pity you didn’t get a chance to go and see the Dodecahedron replica there.’

  *****

  Dressed in jeans and a dark sweater, the two MI6 agents were only a little surprised by the fact that March had one green eye, and one piercing grey eye. Neither did the large Gregorian ridge on his long royal nose cause much concern. However, they both seemed a little disconcerted by his continual, non-stop nervous humming of Abba tunes; in alphabetical order, as they made alternating round trips, carrying all the packages down to their van parked in the street.

  Trys grabbed her dark grey trench coat and black beret. ‘Ready, March?’

  ‘Yes, he said, as they headed for the front door.’

  Once they were in the elevator, Trys asked, ‘where is your bag?’