Musings

PERSONAL LOG, CAPTAIN NEMO

August 14

Tomorrow we arrive off the Chinese mainland. The Maneuvering Watch will be set at 0400 and the Smallboat party will go topside at 0530. In addition to getting rid of my two "guests," Aquafina will land to take on supplies from the locals. My "guests" are certainly entertaining, in their own way. Lord Turnips, while clearly highly bred and a Person of Quality, is strangely obsessed with the planting, harvesting, and consumption of turnips. Each and every conversation one has with him eventually turns into a discussion about turnips. Their uses, their medicinal properties, their history, great events of the day that were somehow influenced by turnips. And the Brigadier, when sober, is clearly a man of dizzying intellect. He can expound on subjects as diverse as the lost world of Roiurama, the Spanish Inquisition, Icelandic sagas, or even trout slapping. And the fact he can do it while consuming large quantities of Bombay Gin, from the third hour of the morning till midnight, is even more impressive.

As we of the Nautilus would not be welcomed by the local authorities we will arrive in the no-mans land of Kowloon Walled City. We will be outside the reach of the Crown authorities, but vulnerable to the triads. The topside security watch will need to be doubled as a result.

I am still undecided on what part the Nautilus will take in Turnips and Rossaroni's scheme to thwart Marzipan. I'm not even sure I want to thwart her. Although she stole the plans for the Q-device from me, set fire to my lab, killed my parents, and had a squadron of steam frigates almost send Nautilus to the bottom; she was my wife for five years. That has to count for something. My part of the plan is to wait offshore and be prepared to send in my Marines when signalled. I have till then to decide what to do.

And I'm still unsure how they expect to get from the current year to 1966. Perhaps someone else can expound on that...

Rear Guard Action at the Lucky Dragon

As Captain Stuart and his new pal Scaramanga made a desperate sprint toward the gates of Kowloon Walled City fleeing what appeared to be a platoon of the Peoples Liberation Army which had been sent by General Tang to capture Scaramanga, make good on some old gambling debts, and to recover some borrowed books,

Chop-xin, Lin Ye Tan, Fang Chi, Timothy and about a dozen unidentified members of Scaramanga's entourage continued to fight it out with the General's men. Despite the meager weapons employed by Scaramanga's minions, the boys had a lot of spirit and their wildly exaggerated war cries, eat-up-the-scenery strutting and chest thumping, did indeed give the CHICOMs pause. The fight continued sometimes in slow motion, sometimes with dramatic flourishes where bullets flew into crockery spraying into a thousand pieces as doves flew dramatically against incongruous stained glass windows that nobody had noticed at the Lucky Dragon to that point.

Though the street in front of the Lucky Dragon was littered with the bodies of several members of Scaramanga's entourage (none of the ones we've been introduced to in the story so far, a couple of the ones who could be played by any dark-haired extra as a point of fact), several of the CHICOMs fell to the wild blows, and dramatically delivered parrys and thrusts. Frustrated, the CHICOM soldiers fled back across the no-mans land back to Red China after they discovered that Scaramanga was no longer at the Lucky Dragon.

Chop-xin, Lin Ye Tan, Fang Chi, Timothy and perhaps a half dozen unidentified fellows dusted their hands and stood with arms akimbo as they looked on their handiwork.

"HA!" they shouted in unison.

Chop-xin held up the copy borrowed from General Tang's personal collection of Balzac's Human Comedy and pointed at what appeared to be the bloody carcass of the lieutenant in charge of the CHICOM contingient.

"Do you like apples?" he paused for comedic timing and continued

"how do you like these apples Commy?!"

With that the entourage roared with a gale of self-important laughter the likes of which are only seen after one has written what they think is a funny (although more likely dubious) blog entry.

The entouraged surveyed the damage to the Lucky Dragon. The front glass window was shattered. Several tables were shattered. The buffet of food was strewn everywhere and the kitchen staff broke out mops and brooms and began picking up the pieces. Heung Wah-yim slowly emerged from under a collapsed table and Lin Ye Tan decided that he might as well ask him for the object of their quest that brought them to Kowloon Walled City. He cleared his throat "do you still have that copy of Lady Windemere's Fan?"

On the Road to Macau

The Brigadier was relaxed. Very relaxed. Six gins and tonics relaxed. His location: on the observation deck of the Nautilus, as it steamed across the Pacific towards China. And destiny.

The Pacific was, uncharacteristically, conforming to its name today, and the calm seas and fair weather had enticed Captain Nemo to run on the surface. Rossaroni, and his erstwhile companion and particular friend, Lord Turnips, had spent the day making good use of the ship's Steward, Rodrigo, making him fetch drinks, applying tanning butter, and adjusting umbrellas to keep the equitorial sun at bay.

"Rodrigo, another G&T, por favor," said Rossaroni as he waved number six in the air. When Rodrigo wasn't fast enough in responding, the Brigadier made a loud sucking sound through his straw. "Garcon! Pronto! Pronto!"

A harried Rodrigo finally appeared, "Si senor. Right away, senor." He took number six and scurried away.

Just then Lord Turnips, dressed is his swimming gown, appeared from the hatch that Rodrigo just went down. "I say, old boy, it looks like you've got the poor boy all in a lather." The Brigadier smiled, "I supposed he's not all bad, as far as dagos go, that is. Well, tell me what you've been up to since I've been sunning myself up here?" Turnips sat down on the adjacent chaise lounge, "Well, I just finished taking a steam in Nemo's Turkish bath. Excellent for the pores, you know. Anyway, I saw the Captain coming down the corrider and he asked me to tell you that we'll be submerging tonight as we enter the South China Sea, and you'll have to leave the deck in an hour so the crew can prepare."

"Well, it's the least I can do for the good Captain, as he was so nice to pick us up in the Sandwich Islands," responded Rossaroni as he took number seven from Rodrigo. "But I'm afraid the difficult part of the journey is just about to begin. The Temporal Confluence Detector is clearly pointing at the Hong Kong-Macau area as Marzipan's location, and it hasn't varied since we left the Sandwiches. But what we've got to figure out is WHY she's there." Turnips pursed his lips, "If she hasn't left the area, It's clearly because she is either looking for something or trying to accomplish something there and hasn't finished yet. And as she's driven by her pathological desire to obtain the Ur-Gin, I'd say that, whatever she's doing there, we'd better stop her."

"Capital reasoning, old chum," said the Brigadier as he made more slurping noises with number seven.

A Very Narrow Escape

After ignoring the horrible message of warning from the old krone on the corner of 绝望 (Despair Street) and 繁體中文版 (Fishhead Street). Captain Stuart Turnips and his new pal Scaramanga lighted out for the Lucky Dragon casino, saloon, and lair of Heung Wah-yim, the leader of the Sun Yee On triad.



Scaramanga's select group of henchmen trailed behind led by the few individuals named in Chapter 5 of the Captain Stuart/Scaramanga backstory: Chop-xin, Lin Ye Tan, Fang Chi, and Timothy. There were others of course but Captain Stuart didn't have time to memorize them. All he knew was that he was being safely escorted through the dank, sunless streets of Kowloon Walled City toward a rendezvous with some nice people that Scaramanga thought might have some work for him. Scaramanga suggested that they might be able to get something strong to drink. Captain Stuart imagined that this might be some "fizzy stuff" that his super cool father had once given him unbeknownst to Lady Turnips while Lord Turnips was watching the youngster during one of Mother's Summer trips to the Greyhawk baths.

The entourage armed with bill hooks, halberds, nunchukus and assorted other swords and blades appeared incredibly formidable except anyone who giving the assorted arsenal closer inspection would immediately notice that these were stage weapons and largely made of light woods and having rubber blades. Scaramanga began to calculate in his mind the danger he might be in if things went south at the Lucky Dragon. He mused to himself that he was armed with his trusty golden gun (tm). He was painfully aware in his calculations that it would only provide him with only one incredibly accurate shot per minute. So, while he could likely find the precise location of greatest vulnerability and deliver a killing shot on a Wyvvern or Stone Giant, or one of the lesser Lovecraftian demi-gods, he'd be in trouble with a capital T if he encountered a mass foe, such as an army of ghouls, or a mass of martial artists, or heaven forfend . . . an army of ghoul martial artists. In most eventualities, he'd have to trust that his art-obsessed entourage would be able to bluff their way through. Although the eventuality of an army of ghouls would have greater consequences beyond his ability to calculate exactly at that moment. Just as he was doing these mental gymnastics his entourage arrived at the Lucky Dragon.







(They have a nice new sign)

As they entered the Lucky Dragon, the door slammed shut behind Scaramanga and Captain Stuart and around 10 of the members of the entourage who had managed to squeeze into the rather smallish establishment, which was not a casino at all but rather some sort of smorgasbord type cafeteria. The remaining indeterminate number of Scaramanga's entourage were forced to stare in the glass windows as they waited for some space to open up inside. Scaramanga and Captain Stuart apprised the board of fare. The food seemed to be competitively priced, although heavily weighted toward starchy rice, some gristley batter-coated chicken or perhaps pork and some rather dodgy looking beans and broccoli in a sort of brownish sauce. Captain Stuart asked the lady for some "fizzy stuff" to drink and he was handed a red can that was room temperature at best. Scaramanga, glanced at the can in Captain Stuart's hands and asked if he'd ever drank Coca Cola before.

Scaramanga decided to ask after Heung Wah-yim to see if he needed any "wet" work done. Bounding out from the kitchen came a rotund Asian man wearing a rather worn plaid short sleeve shirt, chinos and wearing a white apron stained with the previously noted brownish sauce. Scaramanga noticed (and devotees who read his advice column will note how important this is) that his old client's shoes were cracked and the laces were frayed: not the way to convey confidence and success at all.

"Hello, hello, Engrish Gentlemens, How can Heung Wah-yim help you today? Have you try Fried Duck with plum sauce?" Scaramanga noticed at once that his old client had fallen on rather hard times. "Heung Wah-yim you old scoundrel, how the devil are you?" Heung Wah-yim greeted Scaramanga with a scowl. "You should not come to Kowloon Scaramanga! General Tang's men are searching the street for you. He say you owe him a first edition copy of Balzac's Human Comedy and you no pay off bet on Grand National rast year." He had no sooner stopped talking when the sound of a scuffle in the street could be heard and several bursts from the distinctive Type 50 submachine gun carried by the People's Liberation Army soldiers.

(This is Balzac)



(The CHICOM soldiers looked like this, except NOT smiling)





Scaramanga knew at once that he needed to make a beeline from the Lucky Dragon because as already mentioned, his golden gun (tm) was no match for a platoon of CHICOM soldiers armed with burpguns. General Tang's men shot up the window of the Lucky Dragon and burst through in dramatic fashion. Some of them armed with rifles and bayonets lunged toward the members of Scaramanga's entourage and a fight ensued in which the close spaces of the tightly compacted restaurant provided very little space for the halberds and bill hooks but also negated the advantage of the bayonets and made firing weapons very dangerous. In these tight spaces it was enormously lucky that Captain Stuart was able to read his copy of the book on Ka-rate that he borrowed from the lending library last year. He delivered several precision knockout blows to CHICOM soldiers and fought his way through the melee to Scaramanga who was just slipping through a bathroom window into the night air. Scaramanga shouted to Captain Stuart "hurry, we have to get back to the Casino Lisbao as soon as possible. We have to find Johnny Sixguns before it's too late!!!"

Captain Stuart tucked the red can in his pocket and began running after Scaramanga as the sounds of melee faded behind them.

Well, everything was simply going to pot.

The money was gone and Lady Marzipan would surely become even more cross if she should fail to apprehend the two rotund clerics. Scaramanga and the boy pirate, Stuart, had disappeared at the head of pajama’d legion to locate a confederate in the Kowloon Walled City – a Hung Ya Kim Song Bong something or another. (At least some were carrying bill hooks, an excellent weapon even though it reduces ones initiative due to its relative unwieldiness.) Further feeding a growing sense of panic in Woodpecker-Smythe, neither the Brigadier nor Commodore Thornton Pickle were anywhere to be seen. All of this paled, however, to the thought of Lady Lyme Weoghe who would be in no mood to hear about powdered sugar got all over his finest purple waistcoat (a Boxing Day gift). Woodpecker-Smythe shivered.

This was a stickey wicket. Stuck in time, by himself with only 6 pounds 50.

Yes, Woodpecker-Smythe was utterly alone, save the remaining 850 patrons at the Casino Lisboa, many of which included some very attractive Oriental ladies serving bottomless gin and tonics.

Where was an old crone with good advice when you needed one?

As he launched into yet another disgraceful round of self-pitying conversation with the cocktail hostess, a barely perceptible vertical crack appeared in the middle of the lovely Wudan Mountain mural behind the bar at the Casino.

It did not remain barely perceptible for long as a plaster, velvet, jade and red tassels exploded as a police type call box blew through the wall barely missing the enormous ornamental fish tank.

Amid the settling dust and loosed white doves, the police box opened and out strode Johnny Sixguns, his gila monster boots crunching plaster with each step.

He leveled his pistol at Woodpecker-Smythe.

“Listen up, yer comin’ with me – little issue of two dead bishops in the Kowloon Walled City” he noted calmly.

“Of course, of course” stammered Woodpecker-Smythe.

Sixguns surveyed the chaos and added, “Shut up Smythe, we gotta pick up Lady Marzipan; seems she had straighten out some accounting issues and things got a little messy.”

“Is it ok if I take this last unbroken bottle of Sapphire Gin and Tonic along? You know, for laters?” Woodpecker-Smythe asked hopefully.

“No” Sixguns replied as he blew the last bottle to smithereens, “I hate gin.”

Choose Your Own Adventure

In order to move off our current story logjam I have a couple of alternate storylines. To set the stage Scaramanga, Captain Stuart and the martial artists have side adventure in the slums of Kowloon Walled City but ultimately return to Macau. While in Macau they encounter:

• The actual historical Chairman Mao who is hanging out and enjoying jazz music in the back of the casino bar.
• Dr. Who
• Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect

Didacts and Narpets

Captain Stuart Turnips was just about to enter the terribly exciting and glittering Casino Lisboa with all the sexy possibilitites of high-stakes gambling, overpriced alcoholic drinks with funny names and improbable encounters with characters from his father's college years. He was with his new friend: the dread assassin Scaramanga. Following at a short distance: his motley assortment pseudo intellectual associates comprising his so-called "Army of Martial Artists".


This group, although clearly a collection of oriental fops and dandys, was trying its mightiest to appear menacing and tough to the street goers of Macao. They even went so far as to wield martial arts weapons whilst wearing black cotton gi derived from the Japanese Shinobi shozoku, which if the year were 1975-1980 rather than 1966 would have made them look pretty bad ass instead of like a bunch of underfed guys in pajamas carrying halberds, nunchuku, and bill hooks (n.b.: if you review the AD&D players handbook the latter can be a very effective weapon against larger monsters).

Captain Stuart was a mere lad with little framework for the relative cool-ness or nerd-li-ness of his entourage whatever the particular year of our Lord. Scaramanga, for his part was noticeably uneasy. He had a reputation as a world reknown assassin, gun for hire, and patron of the dark arts to uphold. Despite his dread reputation he really was a soft touch and could not resist the pleading of his minions in particular when someone in the party suggested that as a side trip, they go to Kowloon Walled City to pick up a first edition of Oscar Wilde's Lady Windermere's Fan that was rumored to be held by the Sun Yee On triad but which was being offered as the grand prize in a martial arts tournament to be held that very Sunday.

As is common knowledge, even to a time travelling pirate like Captain Stuart Turnips, the Kowloon Walled City is a completely poverty stricken, lawless, overbuilt, unplanned, urban heck hole that makes the hillside shanty towns of Sao Paulo or Nairobi look like Kensington or Mayfair.*

Scaramanga didn't mind going into the Kowloon Walled City. He felt that a trip to visit his old friend Heung Wah-yim, the leader of the Sun Yee On triad would avail him of some work in the so-called "mortality business".

Stuart for his part was just looking for a way to convince these fine people to help him rescue his crew from the CHICOMs and get back his ship the Blue Side of American. In his mind, which lacked even the barest rudiments of a plan, everything seemed to be going vaguely ok. Scaramanga seemed nice enough, the fops and dandys seemed earnest if not exactly lucid, Macau and Hong Kong had nice weather.

Scaramanga, Stuart and the assorted fops, dandys, and poets in Scaramanga's entourage entered the sunless, claustrophobic, urban nightmare of Kowloon Walled City and asked a nearby krone for directions to the infamous Lucky Dragon Bar and Go Go Casino which was reputed to be where Heung Wah-yim, conducted his business. The harpy coughed and spat a toothless grin at them. She shouted at them in Cantonese 傻瓜，烧毁的賭博娛樂場 (which roughly translates to "you idiots, the old casino burned down"). Scaramanga, who spoke perfect Cantonese dialect pointed at the old woman and made a gesture with his thumb against the back of his front teeth. The old woman suddenly realized who Scaramanga was as she was thrown off by his decidedly uncool associates. She decided to change her tack so as not to antagonize her interrogatories. She said brightly 去釣魚新的賭博娛樂場的腦子街道 (which roughly translates to "Very sorry, you should go to Fish Brain street for the new casino Lucky Dragon" although "fish brain" may well have been "fish head" in this dialect.)

Just as the old woman was about to return to her toothless spitting and cursing she recognized Captain Stuart. She pointed her crooked finger at him and motioned him over to her and whispered 您是畏懼的海盜白蘿卜。 我有警告可怕的消息，但是不能在您的同事前面告訴 (which if Stuart understood a lick of Cantonese would have told him "If you are the pirate Turnips. I have horrible message of warning that I must not tell in front of your associates")

As Stuart listened to the old woman he felt her garlicky breath tickle his ears and he began to giggle. Whatever this silly old person was trying to tell him was lost on him. He smiled as warmly as he could and wished her a nice day in his best church Sunday greeting. "What a nice old woman" he thought to himself.

*Until they were torn down by the Chinese and British in the mid 1990s, Kowloon Walled City was considered no-man's land between the People's Republic of China and British Hong Kong. The state of anarchy served the interest of the criminal triads and provided a haven for those on the run from either government.