STRANGE SCIENCE FICTION AND FANTASY OMNIBUS (3 page)

The former Malta chief has been recalled to Moscow and given two quick promotions. He is now a senior officer in the Federal Security Service and occupies an office next to the Russian President. His sole task is to operate “Operation Flea” as the project is referred to in the intelligence service books. Because of his knowledge of what the flea will do, he has established close personal ties with Putin and is widely expected to be the next chief of the Federal Security Service. And, on another happy note, the courtesan flea’s father was released from the Siberian camp and is now happily residing with his daughter in Moscow.

It is generally believed that only the human mind is sufficiently complex to formulate the concept of time travel. This is not entirely true. Among the many who fruitlessly attempted throughout history to create a time machine, one individual actually succeeded. He was, surprisingly, not a human, but a member of the species mus musculus or, in ordinary English, a mouse. Ludeveccio, the mouse in question, was born sometime after 1140 A.D. in what was then the Kingdom of Sicily. Its ruler, Roger II, was a descendent of the Normans who left Scandinavia in the Tenth Century in search of a more favorable environment and managed to find their way through the Straits of Gibraltar into the Mediterranean Sea, and then to the island of Sicily. The Norsemen found it easy to conquer the island. Under Roger II, who succeeded in unifying the various Norman-controlled parts of Sicily into one Kingdom, agriculture and trade with the Arab lands to the east, flourished.

Ludeveccio had the good fortune to be born and grow up in the palace of King Roger II. His father had died early in his infancy as the result of an encounter, while inebriated, with a palace cat, and so the young Ludeveccio and his siblings were raised exclusively by their mother, Maria. The latter was extremely intelligent and Ludeveccio along among his siblings inherited her intelligence and then some. His mother was an excellent provider, furnishing her young with all manner of delicious cheeses, obtained during the night from the palace larder. As a result, Ludeveccio did not have to devote his time to searching for food. Each evening, he spent his time listening to the wise men who counseled the King and his Court. The adolescent Ludeveccio found himself particularly fascinated in the discussions of mathematics and science, many of them based on the knowledge of the ancients which had been preserved by the Arabs and which had been carried to Sicily by travelers.

Ludeveccio’s life changed for the worse in 1154, when Roger II died and was succeeded by his son William I, known in history as William the Bad. The loss of the foreign territories conquered by Roger II caused a lowering of the general standard of living. This was particularly felt in the palace, where Maria now was barely able to feed herself, let alone her children. Ludeveccio’s siblings departed Sicily one by one, on ships headed for other countries in the Mediterranean, hoping to find greater opportunities there.

Ludeveccio, however, was too prudent to embark for a foreign destination without some knowledge of what he might find there. When Maria succumbed to old age and Ludeveccio finally concluded that he, too, would have to leave Sicily, it was too late; the number of vessels setting out from Sicily had been severely diminished. No matter. Ludeveccio was certain that his brilliant mind and the knowledge of advanced science and mathematics he had acquired would enable him to find a solution.

In this, Ludeveccio was not mistaken. Why not create, he thought, a device that would not only transport him out of Sicily to a place of greater opportunity, but also through time, to a period in which living conditions for mice were more favorable. The exact nature of the machine he fabricated has been lost in history, but it most definitely worked. On a dismal fall morning, so Ludeveccio later remarked, he mounted the time machine and set off.

The device fabricated by Ludeveccio actually worked! Within a few seconds the intrepid mouse found himself leaving the soil of Sicily and flying high over the waters of the Mediterranean. It must be added, however, that the time machine did suffer from some defects. It could be turned on and stopped, but it contained no controls for the speed at which it traveled, either through space or time, and no means of knowing whether it was traveling into the future or into the past. There was a rudimentary steering mechanism, consisting of a sail, but it blew off because of strong gusts of wind, as Ludeveccio flew over the Straits of Gibraltar and into the broad Atlantic. It was not that Ludeveccio had been unaware before he commenced his epic-making trip of these flaws in the device’s design. Rather, he had knowingly sacrificed efficiency in the interests of speed of construction.

Ludeveccio was further handicapped by his ability to judge his time in the air. The sun was moving to rapidly in the sky for him to make accurate solar observations and the wrist watch had not yet been invented. After an unknown period, part of which the mouse was asleep, he awakened and saw he was once again over land and slowly descending in altitude. Beneath him he could see an unending land mass, covered with trees, occasionally some dessert, and one long and high chain of mountains.

Finally, Ludeveccio got a glimpse of water bordering a strip of sandy coastline. As he neared the water, he could see that it was vast, quite possibly another ocean. All this was, of course, new to Ludeveccio. He possessed a good knowledge of the charts and maps available in Twelfth Century Sicily, but none of them covered much beyond Europe, the Near East and the northern part of Africa.

The time machine gently touched down on the sand, close to the water, as though it was being guided by a divine hand. Ludeveccio stepped on to the sand. It was warm under his feet, but felt good after the cold of the higher altitude at which he was been travelling. He had not the slightest idea of where he was or whether he had traveled into the past or the future. Still, conditions were probably better than they had been in Sicily. Certainly, the ruler would have to be better than William the Bad.

Ludeveccio set fearlessly in search of some mouse he could ask. None were anywhere in sight. The sole occupants of the beach appeared to be large seabirds, who were interested in dining on fish rather than mouse and paid him no interest.

Some distance down the beach, ludeveccio spotted something dark lying at the water’s edge, washed over by the encroaching tide. As he neared it, he realized it was the body of a human lying face down, only the head still uncovered by the waves. At first he thought it was dead, but realized as he watched it that the person was still breathing.

Ludeveccio’s first inclination was to leave the human in the surface where he had found it and proceed on his search. As his mother had taught him, it’s a wise mouse who does not stick his nose into matters which do not concern him. However, Ludeveccio’s tender heart came into play. He was certainly not as pious as his mother, Maria, had been, but he still entertained the belief that a merciful God would overlook his occasional lapses and permit him one day to enter Mouse Heaven. He reversed his steps and returned to the body. The tide had advanced further in just a few minutes and only the back of the body’s head still protruded from the water.

It was clear to Ludeveccio that the body was far too large and heavy for a small mouse to move on his own. Ludeveccio walked rapidly to the side of the head and saw an ear exposed. He bit it gingerly, hoping to awaken the human. No result. He bit harder. The body quivered, nothing more. Desperate measures would have to be applied.

Ludeveccio step back for a minute to muster all his strength and then bit the ear as hard as he could. The body sat up and the head turned to face him. Slowly it opened its eyes. They were as red as any eyes the mouse had ever seen. “Wash the matter?” it asked.

Back in Sicily, Ludeveccio had acquired a smattering of many foreign languages from the conversations of the foreign traders he had overheard at the palace. This man, that the human was male was a conclusion he reached from its deep voice, seemed to be speaking a form of archaic English.

“My name is Ludeveccio,” he said. “I am a stranger here. I come from Sicily.”

“Ishaly? Where’s that?” asked the man. When he spoke, his words were accompanied by a smell of hard liquor.

So that was the matter, Ludeveccio concluded. The man was not sick or injured, just highly intoxicated. Ludeveccio never indulged in hard spirits, himself, cautious not to repeat the fate of his later father, who had been killed while inebriated. Still, many of the humans in the palace had overindulged, and Ludeveccio had been a silent observer of their behavior.

“What’s your name?” he politely inquired of the man.

“Dishney,” came back the answer, in another gush of strong alcoholic breath.

“Well, Dishney,” Ludeveccio began, speaking as distinctly as he could so that the befuddled human might understand, “don’t you think it would be better to get out of the surf? “.

In response to the mouse’s urging, Dishney clumsily struggled to his feed and began a lumbering walk away from the surf toward a line of cottages that bordered the beach, Ludeveccio struggling to keep pace. He appeared to be wearing some gray, two piece cloth garment, with a white patch showing toward the top of his jacket. The wet material hung down and he looked much like a walking scarecrow.

After a few steps, Dishney fell to his knees, exhausted by the effort of walking. “Please, please get up Dishney,” the squirrel implored. The man started walking again, a little faster. Then, he stopped, seeing that the mouse was falling further and further behind. He stooped, swaying a bit, gently enclosed Ludeveccio in a giant fist, and inserted him into a compartment in the jacket, only Ludeveccio’s head protruding.

Dishney finally reached the beach cottage he had apparently been steering toward. He extracted a key from another compartment in his lower garment and fumbled for several moments, attempting to place it into the lock. After numerous failures he grasped the hand holding the key with his other hand and managed to turn the door lock and enter the house. Inside, the human collapsed across a bed on the far side of a room. Ludeveccio feared that would be crushed as the man’s body hit the bed. Fortunately, Dishney remember in the nick of time that he had the mouse in his pocket and managed to twist to safeguard his companion from the force of the fall.

Almost immediately, Ludeveccio heard loud snoring emanating from the human. Dishney had fallen asleep, still clad in his wet garments. The mouse carefully extricated himself from the garment and looked around the room. He thought of exploring it, but decided he was too fatigued. It had been a long and tiring day. Ludeveccio found on the floor one of Dishney’s used stocks and curled up comfortably in it. Within seconds, he too was asleep.

Ludeveccio was awakened by the clattering of dishes. He opened his eyes. The room in which he slept was empty, but through the doorway he saw Dishney in the kitchen. He was drying dishes, stopping every minute or two to drink from a cup. The mouse walked into the kitchen and climbed to the top of a small table.

“Good morning, Dishney,” he said curiously. His mother had always instructed him to be polite.

The human dropped his cup, which shattered on the floor, spilling a dark, tan liquid.

“My God!” he said, almost hysterical. A talking mouse! I must have the DT’s.”

“Come, now,” said Ludeveccio” is a calming voice. “Don’t you remember? I saved your life yesterday by persuading you to get out of the water, when you were lying face down in the ocean.”

“So that really happened,” the man said. “I thought it had to be a drunken dream. I knew I shouldn’t have bought that bottle of gin. I just can’t handle it.”

Ludeveccio felt embarrassed. He really shouldn’t have reminded Dishney of his sorry condition of the day before. To change the subject, he said “I’m feeling a bit hungry. Do you happen to have any cheese in your house?”

“I apologize for my poor manners,” the man said. “I’ve been a poor host. Please sit down and I’ll see if I have any cheese in the house.”

Dishney walked to a large, white metal cabinet along one wall and opened a door in its front. A white light came on and Ludeveccio could see various foodstuffs in its interior. The man removed an orange block of what appeared to be food, cut off a piece and placed it on a saucer, which he set before Ludeveccio.

“I’m afraid all I could find was this American cheese,” he said. “I do hope you like it. Would you care for something to drink? I have coffee ready and there are some bottles of soda in the refrigerator.”

“If I may, just give me some water,” the mouse answered. He had no idea of what coffee or soda were and was a bit apprehensive about trying strange foods. He bit into the so-called American cheese and had to hide his disappointment. As hungry as he was, he found it difficult to eat. It was certainly not like any of the Italian cheeses he enjoyed.

Then he noticed that Dishney had taken another cup from the counter and poured more of the coffee into it. He then added a white liquid which looked like milk.

“Is that cream?” Ludeveccio asked. “If it is, may I have some to drink?” Dishey poured some of the cream on to a saucer and placed it on the table in front of Ludevecchio.

“Thank you, Dishney,” the mouse said politely.

The man frowned. “Do you have difficulty in pronouncing Disney?” he asked. “My name is not Dishney. It’s actually Walt Disney.”

Ludeveccio felt foolish and turned a beet red. His mother had always instructed him to take pains to learn the exact name of the people to whom he had been introduced and to make certain he pronounced it properly.

“I’m so sorry, Disney,” he said.

“I gather from your manner of speaking,” the human said, “That although you speak it rather well, English is not your native tongue.“It’s improper here to refer to someone by just their last name. It implies a feeling of superiority. “I would prefer it if you would call me Mr. Disney or, if we become friends, as Walt. “