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The Aimless Quest of Bungston Shag
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Chapter 14. Chapter 15. Chapter 16. Chapter 17. Chapter 18. Chapter 19. Chapter 20. Epilogue.Chapter 14
"You did? Jovarillo! I can't believe it!" Irn was predicatbly astounded that Bungston had done away with the dragon, and for a few seconds her eyes actually opened all the way before subsiding into their usual state. She explained to the white apes what had happened, and they coverged on Bungston hooting with joy and pounding him on the back with many arms.
The wizard inflated to the maximum. "Yes, well, all in a day's work. I just used its power against it, turning it about, so to speak. It all derives from my intensive ninja training." He struck a pose and demonstrated a few intense ninja moves for the apes, which ooked and eeked appreciatively.
Irn rolled her eyes and walked over to talk with Napoleon and Robigus. "So, guys, he really did kill the dragon? He's not telling a fish story? Because that thing was a huger; biggest I've ever stumbled into."
Robigus nodded. "He provoked the dragon into digging a tunnel up to the surface, where it intercepted a lake bottom. The water which coursed down the tunnel was of enough force to carry the dragon away; Bungston himself but narrowly avoided the same fate. If I had not seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed it."
Irn caught the mildew god with a sideways glance. "Carried away? So its not actually dead, its just gone. Nang, nang, nang. So, Bung, we should search that place before the dragon comes back, huh?"
Bungston looked over from his crowd of four-armed nutmeg-chewing martial arts pupils. "Come back? That critter hit so hard its lucky it's in one piece!" The wizard then recalled the fact that the critter had not been damaged by three sticks of dynamite exploding in its mouth; this could be said for few other animals. "Mmm yeah. Maybe you're right. Ok, lets go."
The flaming puddles which had previously illuminated the dragon's cavern had been put out by the torrent. Irn quickly remedied this with a tarry basin plucked from the dragon's hoard. She filled it with river water and spun the full basin on her finger frisbee style, tapping it occasionally with the other hand, then set it on a ledge and threw in a match. Whatever was now in the basin burned with a brilliant sputtering white flame, and a few more strategically located bowls and basins provided more light than the room had probably ever seen. The next problem was the treasure mound, which was well cemented by layer upon layer of tar. The mound looked like a big tar and treasure fruitcake, and Bungston's earlier efforts had proven that it was not easy to pick out the fruit. Also, none of them knew how deep the treasure mound was - the layers might date back a very long time.
Irn gestured around in frustration. "Look at this! It's all gunked together! My aesthetic sensibility is offended. What's the point of gathering up gold and jewels and nice stuff if you want to bury it in a glob of sticky mucus? Might as well be chunks of dirt."
Robigus was digging out a small blue jade statuette with his sword. He got it loose and held it near a blazing basin to examine it further. "Truly, this is a worthy question you pose, Irn. And why would a dragon desire valuables at all? It cannot enter a bazaar or shop, and it has no-one to awe with its wealth as does a king or noble. What use a treasure with no value?"
"Truly, you guys ask lots of bozo questions," grumbled Bungston. "Maybe dragons don't have much reason to collect gold, but humans don't either. It's soft and gets banged out of shape if you look at it wrong. Gold is just nifty, and everybody likes it, and that's that. Let's find this adze." The wizard was a little more curt than usual with his companions because he had begun to realize that even without the dragon present, it would be well nigh impossible to find the magic adze, if it were here at all - everything in the mound looked the same. Also, Irn's point earlier had made him increasingly nervous. He kept on glancing at the point where the subterranean river exited the cavern, expecting the huge armored head of the dragon to poke out of the arch at any second. He was not too sure they could escape if it did show up; the thing tunneled through stone almost as fast as a man could run. It would certainly be pissed off, and so it would chase them. Chase Bungston, in particular. But then it might be dead, too. Bungston grabbed an ape and asked it to stand watch at the river exit, and to holler if it saw anything.
Irn had her old fashioned bug duster along, and after some experimentation she arrived at a reeking solvent that dissolved the dragon's tar fairly well. Bungston first pointed out the wooden haft he had earlier noticed protruding from the pile. Napoleon could not get a good enough grip on the thing to really pull, but after Irn had softened up the tar around it Bungston and Robigus working together got it free. It was just a stick. "Perhaps the head of this tool remains below," pointed out the mildew god. "Often it happens that the haft is wrenched free from an axe-head or shovel blade."
"Yeah, and maybe it's a magic wand!" growled Napoleon.
Bungston handed the stick to the excited dog, who proceeded to bonk various nearby objects with it. "This is so slow!" complained the wizard. "It took ten minutes just to find a stick! This sucks! There has got to be a better way." He scanned the lumpy treasure pudding in despair. There was a tap at his shoulder and he turned, hoping for a suggestion, but it was just Napoleon tapping him with the stick in hopes of awakening its magic powers. He pushed the mutant away and then yelled at some apes who were milling around near the exit. "You apes make yourselves useful!" Irn and Robigus took little notice of the wizard's tantrum, being busy with sprayer and sword retrieving small precious items from the pile. "Guys, tell me if you find it," said Bungston petulantly, then stalked off towards the river to sulk.
En route, Bungston's attention was suddenly drawn by a small item wedged between an ingot of silver and the top edge of a circular shield. The wizard fetched a cupful of Irn's tar dissolving solvent and managed to work the item free. It was a tiny brass spoon, not more than three inches long. It rang a bell somewhere in the back of Bungston's mind. An earspoon. He crinkled his brow, trying to remember. For some reason, he thought the thing he was searching for might just be an earspoon. Had Queen Z mentioned an earspoon?
"Found it," announced Irn. Bungston stashed the earspoon in a pocket, then ran back to where the sorceress and Robigus were standing amid a crowd of killer apes. Irn was polishing the remaining tar off the adze with a solvent-soaked rag. The adze was not overly flashy but was obviously not your run of the mill tool. Its haft was about a foot and a half long, made out of wood now stained brown with tar. The curved head was carved from an unusual blue black stone with tiny translucent light blue veins.
Bungston gently took the adze out of Irn's hand and tested it for heft, his eyes bugging from his head. "Well spice my thymus! This is it! This is it!" The grinning wizard leaped on Irn with a huge hug, then gave Robigus another one equally huge, then danced a high-speed victory dance with the magic adze above his head, whooping and yelling. SQUALID CRANER CRAZY GRAIN ITS ONE TOO HUP DO RIGHT IN THE GRAY OLD SPECIAL TIME ALMOST MY BRAIN! TRIP FLIPPING KIPPER CRYPTO KNISH! There was a burst of tiny magnificently colored paper flowers and small black plastic beads at the very top of the cavern. The beads came down in a fast noisy hail, but the paper flowers took their time, floating through the air in a beautiful display. The apes loved it. Bungston turned back to his comrades, ecstatic. "How the heck did you find it in this heap? And so fast! I was ready to go mope!"
"Yeah, I could tell," said Irn. "Well, Bob here and I just roamed around looking for something that looked familiar to me, or to one of the apes. They were a big help too - cause they're the ones who carted it all down here. So, eventually we found this." She held up a marble bust of some Roman official. For some inexplicable reason, there was a chain attached to a ring set in the nose. "There can't be more than a few chain-nose busts in the world, so we figured, this is where the apes dumped the loot, so it all must be here. In this vicinity, you know. So we dug around a little, and here's your adze."
Bungston tugged on the nose-chain, then rubbed his own nose in sympathy. "Gotta hand it to you, guys. That sure makes sense. No arguing with success. Wooo!" The wizard was so pleased to have completed his quest that he did not even try to think of some way he could take credit for the find.
Napoleon shuffled up with his stick and rubbed it on the adze. "Hey, Irn, is that reeky stuff you have safe for fur? Bung said you could make some WD40 and get this gunk off of me." Fortunately for the mutant the recent flood had solidified the tar to some degree, but still his fur was spotted with tar chunks, his feet were almost bald, and his rambles about the cavern were clearly marked by reddish hair stuck to the black floor. The apes were in a similar predicament.
Irn sniffed her bug duster and coughed, her eyes watering. "Well, there's probably something better than what I've got now. But say, I'd say we should grab the goods and go before that dragon comes back and bogues us but good. Bung, I don't suppose your magic ship is big enough to carry my apes?"
The wizard looked over the simian seven, who were engaged in gathering paper flowers off the floor and throwing them in an attempt to recreate Bungston's display. "Maybe a couple, in with us. Argh!" Bungston slapped himself on the head, leaving a vivid black handprint on his crewcut and forehead. "I forgot! That stupid coil is parked way out on the mouth of the Tiber! I don't want to walk all that way!"
Robigus frowned at the wizard. "I have thought on this matter," stated the mildew god, "and it must be that the wrapped carriage is controllable from afar. This must be, for when you and I were picked up by our carriage in Greece, the one controlling it from Avalon was at considerable distance. Yet the carriage still responded with celerity. So it may be that you could cause the wrapped carriage to move from the ocean through this tunnel to where we stand."
"No celerity for me, thanks," rasped Napoleon in his unoiled chainsaw voice. "It tastes funny. Plus it's full of threads." Bungston absently grabbed the mutant's nose and squeezed in retribution. Napoleon responded with a ferocious sneeze.
The wizard was in a fix. He did not like it when other people did the thinking for him, at least not when they did it as blatantly as Robigus was. There had to be an alternative to the gray warrior's suggestion. Bungston was still pretty pumped up about the adze, though, and after some disgruntled gruntling he had to concede that the warrior's plan involved the least work. "All right. Good idea and all. We'll just hope this river empties into the ocean and not into Pellucidar or some bottomless pit, or the coil will never get here." The slim wizard fished out the control statue and began to fiddle with it.
The adventurers waited and waited. Napoleon wandered around sneezing and using his wand to poke at various half-hidden bits of treasure in the mound. Robigus and Irn started excavating a hole in the great central tar heap, recovering older and older items as they progressed into the interior. After a half-hour Irn hunkered down next to where Bungston glared at the control statue. "Bung, do you think it would be OK if after we got to your place I borrowed your machine and took my main apes someplace nice, California or something?"
"Yeh, good idea. But I might be swimming this coil in circles on the bottom of the ocean for all I know. Fudge and fish."
Napoleon shuffled over with his special stick, now somewhat chewed, and tapped the end of the minature coil on the control statue. At that very moment a loud hum resounded through the cavern and the glowing coil emerged from the river and perched on the bank. Man and mutant stared at each other, then stared at the special stick. "Coincidence," declared Bungston. Napoleon responded with a soggy sneeze. Even Bungston's remarkable reflexes could not save him from a no-warning point-blank sneeze, and the wetted wizard jumped to his feet and ran away, wiping himself and protesting loudly.
"That's what you get for doubting my magic wand," rasped the mutant in tones that would have been self-righteous if they had been clearer. "And for honking my nose - you got some of that anti-tar stuff in it! And besides, you've got that black mucky junk all over your face. That's the same thing as dragon boogers. Worse, even. I bet you're cleaner now that I sneezed on you, since I had solvent in my nose." Bungston broke the head off of a stained ivory idol lodged in the tar and winged it at his intolerable pet mutant. The St. Bernard somehow deflected it with his magic wand, then nodded his great head knowingly at this further proof of his wand's powers.
"Enough! Enough, you guys!" Irn propelled the squawking mutant toward Bungston and the coil. She promised her apes that she would return for them soon, and directed them to return to her domicile and hold down the fort. Bungston took advantage of Napoleon's new proximity to kick strange smelling river water onto him. Robigus, with his usual diligence, loaded up the coil with their take of dragon treasure. Bungston broke out his nifty nutmeg grater and gave each of Irn's apes a pinch of freshly ground nutmeg to place between cheek and gum. He grabbed a platter-sized mirrored dragon scale from the tar as a souvenir, and then the foursome was off.
Strange white fish dashed and darted around the coil as the four adventurers cruised down the river. "We're moving deep into the bowels of the earth," intoned Bungston ominously. "The bowels of the earth." Napoleon pointed out a barrel-sized white form ahead of them. It was a giant white crab that flashed by the side of the coil and was gone.
"This thing really hauls," noted Irn as she watched the white form behind them dwindle and disappear. "I like it. How do you do the time travel bit, though?"
"You'll see pretty soon" said Bungston. "There's this series of time gates on the ocean floor. They all look the same, but the machine knows which one to pick."
"I have been thinking about those time gates..," started Robigus.
"You sure think a lot, Bob," interrupted Napoleon. The big mutant was trying to magic the wads of tar out of his fur with the magic wand. Robigus shut his mouth and rode on in silence. After about a minute Napoleon turned to look at the suddenly uncommunicative mildew god. "Yeah? You were saying?"
Robigus frowned fiercely at the mutant. "Perhaps it is not meet that a warrior babble of thoughts and theories."
The mutant snorted and bonked Robigus' armored shin with the magic wand. "I'll give you meat you can talk about!" Bungston backhanded his mutant for this lamest of pun attempts. Napoleon was already off balance, and the mutant St. Bernard lurched into Robigus, adding possible injury to probable insult.
Irn fended off god and dog; quarters were close with four bodies in the coil and one of them seven feet tall. Also between Napoleon and Robigus the air was pretty ripe; Napoleon smelled like the wet tarry dog he was, and Robigus' earlier mildewing activities against the plant creatures had caused the dissolution of the borrowed clothes he wore under his armor. "Let's hear a thought or theory, Bobzilla," said Irn. "My brain is always rassling with the time travel thing too."
Robigus hesitated a bit, then began to unpack his thoughts. "These time archways at the bottom of the sea are unutterably ancient, yes?"
"Unutterably," agreed Bungston.
"And the race that built them no doubt made use of them as we do - for travel. This is the function of the wrapped carriage. The time arches do permit access to recent epochs - to this, the sixteenth century, and to the time of Avalon, and to the time in which you live, Bungston and Napoleon." The gray warrior paused and looked at the great maroon form across from him. "In which time do you normally abide?"
Napoleon shrugged and turned to Bungston. "Post-modern," answered the wizard. "Go on."
"I have wondered, then, why it is we do not see representatives of the original time-travelling race exploring the many places accesible via the time arches? The builders of these arches could use them to visit recent times. Why do they not?"
There was silence in the wrapped carriage as the adventurers contemplated the mystery.
Not too surprisingly, Bungston spoke first. "Maybe they don't want to," he offered. "Maybe it's more fun in their own time. Maybe they can't eat our food."
"Maybe people are mean to them when they visit," rasped Napoleon."Maybe they look like Bigfoot," said Bungston.
Napoleon liked this idea, and the grating rumble of his voice rose in pitch. "Yeah, yeah, people are mean to them because those ancient toads look like Bigfoot. That's why they never visit us. That would explain it, Bob."
"You just like that idea because you think you look like Bigfoot," accused Bungston.
"Well, maybe I'm one of those ancient time travellers, huh? Ever think of that? Maybe these spring machines are Chariots of the Gods and I'm a Bigfoot god who came to visit. You guys should be nicer to me."
"I happen to know your grandma walked on all fours with a barrel of brandy on her neck," shot Bungston.
"That doesn't mean I'm not a god. Does it, Bob?" Napoleon looked to the frowning mildew god for support.
Irn perked up. "Hey, maybe Nap's right." Napoleon nodded fiercely and prodded Bungston to make sure he was listening to the thaumaturge. She did not, however, go on to confirm Napoleon's godhood or Bigfoothood. "Maybe these ancient arch builders are visiting, and they walk around, and we just can't tell. They could look like regular people and just shut up about where they come from. Look, we don't go shouting that we're time travelers when we're out and about, do we? It wouldn't go over well."
Robigus nodded solemnly. "And it could be that they do not appear as people do. It could be that they may take the form of animals." Napoleon tapped Bungston again, but again was disappointed. "No, Napoleon, not extraordinary animals such as you. Ordinary animals, like goats or birds. They may be shape shifters. The Egyptians and some others knew of gods who were part animal, part human. These, then could be the arch builders."
Irn looked closely at Robigus. "So, Robigus, you're a god, right? Did you know that guy Zeus and his bunch?"
Napoleon gave Bungston a third dig in the ribs. "What?" bellowed the wizard, cutting off Robigus' reply to Irn.
"Did you hear what Bob said?" ground the shaggy beast in his chainsaw tones. "He said I was extraordinary. He said I might be a shape shifter god."
"Like that shoggoth?" suggested Bungston.
"No, no, no! Not like that at all, right Bob? Like, uh, I don't know. Those Egyptian gods. A shape shifter. I've got it in my blood."
"More like a shit shaper," said Bungston.
"More like a sharp shooter," said Napoleon.
"A shaft slapper," said Bungston.
"A shark shipper."
The wizard turned a quarter turn and fixed a belligerent stare on Napoleon. "A skank sucker."
Napoleon jutted his lower jaw. "A star sparker."
"A sheep spanker."
"A short sheeter."
"A sheet spotter."
"A slick swinger"
"I do not understand," said Robigus, mystifyed by the high-speed exchange. "What does this talk mean?"
"A SPIKE SPANK SPARK SHANK SHIFTY SHAPELESS SCRIMSHAW STICK OF FISHY FLASHING SCRABBLING SANDBAG SCABROUS PLAID OLD FUNKY WONGER BANGER."
Red lightning crackled away from the coil, leaving trails of steam and froth in the water. Booming explosions due to cavitation rocked the moving carriage, causing its occupants to bounce off each other like gourd seeds in a maraca. When the bubbles cleared, the adventurers could see that there was something orbiting the wrapped carriage at tremendous speed. It moved in asymmetric elliptical orbits, darting smoothly out to varying distances and shooting around different sections of the coil. The thing had a three foot long cometlike tail of white fire and bubbles behind it. It moved so fast that none of the four could tell what it was, literally running circles around the wrapped carriage, which was itself was moving at no inconsiderable speed.
"That was a big one," said Bungston. "Thanks for the help." The mutant nodded.
"This jobby you called up moves like an electron, Bung," said Irn as she followed the newly summoned object with her eyes. "Sometimes when I'm transmuting I can feel those little shooters, and this moves just like that. Like an electron. I don't know if this looks the same, though."
"Thus we have become an Atom," proclaimed the wizard. "I guess we're all protons and neutrons in here. Hey, this is a pretty long river."
Robigus had been completely befuddled by this latest exchange, and he merely watched the carriage's fast moving satellite for a while. "I have just realized," he said after a few minutes. "We feared lest the dragon should return to his lair while we waited there. It is likely that, were the dragon to return, it would return via this watery passage, and if we run afoul of it as we travel there is nowhere to flee."
Bungston rubbed his blond crewcut, making some small-scale red lightning of his own. "Mmm. We questers have to endure plenty of peril."
Irn spoke up. "Well, you said that dragon crumped hard when it washed away. So maybe its dead, or maybe hurt, right? Anyway, if it is we'll either find it in the tunnel here like Bob says, or at the bottom of the sea at the end of the tunnel where it settled. And if not, it swam off. I bet it can't swim though."
"Yeah," said Bungston. "Not with all that metal on it. But it sort of looked like a fish, in a way."
The interior of the machine suddenly grew darker; this was due to the fact that the tunnel walls no longer reflected the glow of the wrapped carriage. They were out in the open ocean, and their cometoid companion took advantage of the increased space to fan out in wider sweeping arcs. Bungston took the humming coil into a steep dive, in hopes of finding a vanquished dragon in a lump on the ocean floor.
He was not disappointed. Mirrored scales winked in the distance, reflecting the glow of the wrapped carriage and its new luminous companion. Bungston steered in for a closer look. "Yo, Robigus, do you have the light? Shine it over there." The yellow beam played over the dragon's gargantuan form stretching away into the darkness. It had sunken sideways into the muddy bottom and its bladed jaws gaped limply. A pool of tar had formed around its head. Even in death it was impressive. "I bet the salt water killed all those cooties it had," said Bungston. "Hey, wouldn't it be great if we could get its head as a trophy? We could make an awesome throne out of it. Maybe even give it to Queen Z."
Robigus frowned a more furrowed frown than his usual. "Bungston, I think it would be prudent to leave this place. No good can come of toying with this fallen monster."
"Yeah, you're probably right." Bungston was steering away when he noticed something. "Wait! Bob, get its head in the light again." The wizard took the wrapped carriage in for a very close pass, pointing at the dragon's snout. "I hit it! I did shoot it in the nose! I bet that's what did it in." There was a bullet lodged in the right nostril of the beast. Everyone congratulated Bungston on his marksmanship. Then there was a soft thump as the carriage's magic satellite companion circled around and struck the closed eye of the fallen monster.
The adventurers clearly saw the immense body shift and the outermost eyelid slowly lift, and then the wrapped carriage left the dragon behind. "Now I think we will go," muttered Bungston, cranking on the control statue. The hum of the coil increased in volume and the machine cut a sharp turn and zoomed away. No conversation took place.After a long silence Robigus spoke. "It may be that what we saw was merely a twitch. Death comes slowly for reptiles and their ilk; it is said that a snake cloven in twain will twitch until sundown."
Irn picked up the light and pointed it out the back of the coil to check for any pursuit, but the feeble yellow beam did not penetrate far. She shook the former arc-light, eliciting a sinister sloshing sound. The sorceress began to unscrew the lid but Napoleon grabbed her arm. "That's a bad idea." He explained about the battery-eating crab and Bungston's nutmeg and scum balloons.
Irn looked again at the light and then balanced it on the back of her hand. "Well, heck. Some phlogiston is called for." She set the light in motion with a flip of the wrist, periodically tapping the casing with the nails of her thumb and little finger. Then she directed it out the back of the vessel and hit the switch.
No-one was quite prepared for the dazzlingly brilliant solar plume that erupted from the lamp. The dancing tongue of light penetrated the murky water like a safety pin into a baby's butt. It highlighted the gleaming metal-armored predator in hot pursuit. The dragon propelled itself with sweeps of its thick tail, and its white eyes glittered in the beam. The jaws were closed fast with mouth barbs extended and cutting through the water. The monster had pulled its legs into furrows along its body and did indeed look like an enormous fish. Irn turned off the light, plunging them into relative darkness. She ran a hand through her chopped hair and blew air out of her nose. "I should have left well enough alone."
"That was one heck of a light!" said Bungston cheerily. "Sure beats my old arc-light all to pieces."
Scowling fiercely, Robigus tuned to the wizard. "It was foolish to move so near and awaken the dragon. This monster can easily destroy us, and it will surely attempt to do so, all because of your desire to examine its nose."
"We've still got our force field..," Bungston weakly offered.
"If that globby worthless shoggoth could get through, you think that thing can't?" Napoleon gestured vaguely toward the back of the coil. "What are we going to do?" he rumbled.
"It wasn't gaining on us, was it? Maybe we can outrun it." Bungston turned to fiddle with the control statue.
"And you shall lead it directly to your home,"
Bungston looked at the stern warrior and maroon mutant, both glaring at him with disapproval. Irn looked as if she was considering turning the light back on for a second look. "Really, Bung, that was less than smooth, even for you. That's a big honker dragon to be fooling with. It can bite through this machine like a candy cane. Or gobble it whole."
The wizard looked claustrophobially around the cramped confines of the carriage, and the three accusatory occupants, then exploded with loud indignation. "It wasn't me! It wasn't my fault! I didn't wake up the dragon. It was that thing!" He pointed an accusing finger at the bubbling object, still speeding in circles around them. "The stupid thing whacked into its eyeball. You all saw it! I didn't do it." There was no reply. Bungston sagged in his seat. "Sorry guys. I really thought it was dead." He attempted a cavalier tone. "Well, it looks like I'm just going to have to vanquish this dragon again." Bungston popped a fresh nutmeg in his mouth and chewed furiously as he fiddled with the control statue. Irn turned back on the power light. The dragon was still chasing them, its mighty tail swishing back and forth behind it. Thin ribbons of tar streamed backwards from the sides of its mouth.
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