RS 42: The Meaning of Life

Chapter 42

The Meaning of Life

The Heart of the Ocean dropped anchor off the coast of a small and rather perfect tropical island. Seagulls wheeled in the fresh breeze as sailors scurried around the ship, salvaging ropes and sails. Bits of wood lay scattered across the deck, and a large part of the railing had been ripped away by one of the kraken’s tentacles when it had smashed the bows. Miraculously no one had been injured, other than a few bruises and a splinter on Fred’s middle finger.

“And that,” said Joan, dropping a shattered chunk of wheel to the ground, “is how you do it!” She raised her voice to the crew. “Good job everyone!”

Still beaming she turned back to Fred and cursed under her breath. “ I’m going to have to buy a lot of alcohol. I bribed them away from their posts with the promise of margaritas and cheese sandwiches. I hope the treasure comes with a big pile of gold.”

“It had better,” said Alice who was still looking a little green about the gills. “That was intense.”

“Cheese sandwiches?” said Fred. “I could murder a cheese sandwich right about now.”

“I am surprised we survived,” said Prince Erik. He looked a little disappointed.

“Oh ye of little faith,” said Joan. “Let’s hope there’s something on the island. There should be food, I think, for winning the race.”

Leaving the crew to patch up the ship, Fred, Joan, Alice, Prince Erik and Maris piled into one of the remaining small dinghies and rowed across to the island. After the rough waters churned up during the race it was a relief to row across the calm waters, and into a small lagoon where the sea was as flat and clear as glass. Leaning over the edge Fred could see multicoloured fish munching on coral far below, and then closer to the shore, giant conch shells in pearlescent stripes of silver and sherbet.

Sparkling waves lapped at the pink powdered sand and a few crabs scuttled away as they waded ashore through the warm water, pulling up the boat behind them. Fred tied the dinghy to a rock and looked around at the beach.

Feathered palms waved in a sweet summer breeze. The island was small, barely large enough to build a house on with just a small grove of trees in the middle, and a few dotted around the beach. He pulled off his shoes and wriggled his toes in the sand with a sigh of satisfaction. Overhead the peace was disturbed by a terrible mechanical clanking.

An engine in distress cut through the bird song and a small aircraft zigzagged through the sky, belching clouds of oily, black smoke. Everyone scattered as it crash landed in a spray of sand, the nose coming to a stop against a palm tree with a sturdy thump. Two coconuts fell out of the tree and bounced down the beach. The propellers whizzed and hummed and finally came to a stop as the engine spluttered out.

“What ho, chums!” shouted the pilot, waving a gloved hand.

The two figures crammed inside the tricked-out bathtub removed their goggles, and shook out their hair. The smaller one had a sabre tooth tiger bunched in her lap. It jumped out onto the beach and shook itself enthusiastically, before bounding up to the party in greeting.

“Eeeeeeeh,” said Maris, backing away, until it was clear they were not about to be eaten alive.

“Epic!” said Fred. He raised his eyebrows and made not so subtle googly eyes at her companion. “Who is your friend, are you going to introduce us?”

Epic turned beet red, and climbed awkwardly out of the bathtub, slipping as she swung one leg over the side. The tall, bearded man behind her caught her in a princess lift and deposited her on the sand with a flourish.

“Thank you,” Epic muttered, her ears so red they looked like they might fall off. Stinkums twinned round her legs purring wildly, and then bumped her forehead against the man’s legs.

“Hans is the name,” he said, striding forward. Epic’s companion was a good-looking man in his late thirties, with warm brown eyes, covered by tinted glasses, which he snapped off and pocketed as he pumped everyone’s hands in vigorous greeting. He was wearing a dark trench coat, with lumpy pockets. Fred could see a screw-driver, a magnifying glass and a notebook poking out of one side, and what looked like a field mouse in the other. His smile was wide and genuine, dimpling at the side which gave his otherwise austere look a certain cheekiness.

“Inventor, adventurer, philanthropist and part-time prince at your service! You must be Fred! And Joan, and Alice! Epic has told me so much about you all!”

“Has she?” asked Alice, in surprise.

Epic made a small noise like an embarrassed balloon deflating. Hans laughed and tucked her under his arm, beaming down at her as her face reached nearly nuclear proportions of redness.  He turned to Prince Erik.

“Erik, my old chum! Cracking race! What ho?”

“Greetings, brother,” said Prince Erik, with dignity. He looked distinctly out of place on the sunny island.

“Hello, daughter of Neptune,” Hans said, turning to Maris. The mermaid nodded coldly.

“Maris,” she said.

“Hello, Maris,” he said, jovially. Hans looked around, staring at the palm trees and down to the boat, and then back to Epic. “But there’s one missing? The lucky lad who can’t decide if he wants to be a wizard or a bard?”

“Yes,” said Alice, rounding Joan. “Where is Hugo? You said he had his own ship?”

“Oh,” said Joan. “Yes, he did. I saw him at the palace when I was er...borrowing the Heart of the Ocean. He seemed very proud. Hanging out with one of the other princes.”

“Another one?” said Fred.

“Which one?” said Prince Erik and Prince Hans at the same time. Both of them looked concerned.

“Michael,” said Joan. “I think it was Prince Michael. Is that bad?”

Erik and Hans exchanged glances, Erick shrugged, the worry lifting from his brow and Hans burst out laughing.

“Depends,” said Hans, “what your Hugo is into.”

“If you're going to be all-” started Alice hotly.

“-Michael inherited some of our father’s traits,” said Prince Erik.

Fred blinked.

“Your father the small cosmic horror?” asked Alice.

“Yeah, last I saw, Hugo and the cute monster boy were stealing a submarine,” said Joan., brushing the sand off her legs. “Said they were going to make out on the seafloor and then help us during the race.”

Everyone looked out at the flat expanse of the lagoon, broken only by the great shadow of the Heart of the Ocean, the sailors scurrying around fixing the masts.

“Well then,” said Fred, with a cough. “I imagine they will be along shortly.”

“Indeed,” said Hans with a smile.

There was a pop, everyone jumped.

The Incomplete Guide to Some Things appeared in front of them, minus his usual sparks and flare.

“Congratulations, losers,” he said in a monotone. His hair was wet and plastered to his scalp, making his usual ginger colouring appear black. Water dripped from his open pages. He removed a piece of seaweed from behind one ear, and then spat a little bit of seawater from his mouth. Everyone moved back a little, and a small silver fish plopped out much to Stinkums’s delight.

“How interesting!” declared Hans, peering at the Guide. “Remarkable. I’ve never seen a Guide in such close proximity before. Are they usually this wet?”

“Fuck off,” said the Guide. He paused. “Your Highness. Where was I? Oh yes. Congrats.”

He put a damp party blower in his mouth and attempted to blow it. The resulting sound was more raspberry than celebratory.

“You alright there?” asked Fred, with some consternation. “Rough day? Can I offer you a towel? Always a good idea to have a towel handy.”

“Fine, fine,” said the Guide, wiping the page in front of him and smudging it horribly. “Just lost a bet, that's all. Stupid office politics. Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, congratulations! Here is your treasure map.”

He chucked a damp scroll at Joan. It hit her in the head and bounced onto the sand. She scooped it up eagerly, flipping it open with a soggy flourish.

Everyone bent forward.

The damp parchment revealed the smudged outline of a lagoon with an island in the middle - fairly obviously the same as the one they stood on. There was a big ‘X’ under one of the palm trees marked on the beach.

They all looked up and low and behold, further down the beach a solitary palm tree had a giant ‘X’ underneath it marked in red stones.

“I don’t remember that being there,” said Prince Erik, squinting suspiciously.

“Don’t question it,” said Fred.

“Hmmm,” said Erik.

“That was easy,” said Alice. Joan put her hands on her hips.

“You call battling your way through a seething sea full of krakens and vicious mermaids easy?”

“I mean the treasure bit,” said Alice, hastily.

“Alright, fair,” said Joan, mollified.

“So, there’s your prize,” said the Guide, sniffing. He rubbed a hand over his damp hair. “The +20 HP buff will be added to your stats and is present whenever you are on water.”

“Neat,” said Alice.

“The rest of your prize you’ll have to dig for,” he continued. “Here’s the key.” He handed Joan a large golden key. She cradled it carefully in her hand. “Your winner’s feast is laid out under the trees.”

“Feast?” said Fred. “FEAST! Now we are talking.”

The Guide snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Fred’s stomach rumbled. “Treasure or food first?”

“Treasure,” said Joan.

“Feast,” said everyone else.

The winner’s feast was laid out on red and white check picnic blankets under the innermost trees where the shade was deepest. Now it was midday the sun was growing uncomfortably hot.

Everyone sat down, smiles on their faces. Even Joan forgot to grump as she looked at the spread before them. There were glass jugs full of ice water and others with some bright blue liquid that tasted sweet and vaguely alcoholic, complete with bobbing little pink umbrellas. Plates were piled high with dew-frosted watermelon slices, blueberries, raspberries, and strawberries dipped in chocolate, sausage rolls on little sticks, jam sandwiches, peanut butter sandwiches, tomato sandwiches and cucumber sandwiches, these last with the crusts cut off.

“Oh, thank goodness,” said Alice, plopping down and grabbing a plate. “I could eat a horse.”

“Me too,” said Fred. He glanced up at the sun. “It’s been a long night.”

“Pancakes?” asked Prince Erik, leaning forward hopefully. “Are there pancakes?”

“Sorry, friend,” said Fred. “No pancakes, but these sandwiches are excellent.” He handed round a plate.

“Any tea?” murmured Prince Hans. “I busted the boiler on the old flying machine when we came in to land. Don’t think the old gal will be alright without a bit of a tinker, terrible shame that. I would kill for a cuppa.”

“Epic, you have great taste in men,” said Fred, as he poured out some tea from his flask and handed Hans a steaming cup.

“We’re just friends,” said Epic. She fed Stinkums a bit of ham and nearly lost a hand in the process. She snatched it back quickly.

“Darling!” protested Prince Hans. Then he stretched his legs out and took a sip of his tea, his dimples coming out as he did so. “That’s alright,” he said, to the small, glaring woman. He paused. “Tell me again about that rage thing you do,” he said. “That was really interesting.”

“Oh no,” said Epic, and she bit into a sandwich with a bit more aggression than was strictly necessary.

Fred leaned over and said in a loud whisper. “I like his beard.”

Epic glanced at Han’s beard and her cheeks turned rosy once more.

“So, Prince Hans,” said Joan, into the awkward silence. “You say you are an inventor? What do you invent? Besides flying bathtubs?”

“Life at the palace is hellish dull,” said Prince Hans. “Hellish dull and hellish by turn. Erik can tell you, can’t you old boy?” Prince Erik grunted, his mouth full. “We all have our ways of coping. I like to build things. Tinkering with gears and engines excites me. I started making wind up toys for my brothers when they were little. Clockwork mice and such, and then progressed to amphibocycles-”

“Excuse me, what?” said Alice.

“Bicycle that rides on water,” said Hans, with a chuckle. “Then I got into small engines and well. Yes. Here we are. I built that submarine my little brother seems to have run off with, and one or two flying contraptions. My dream is to fly to all corners of the map.”

“That’s a nice dream,” murmured Epic.

“What about you Maris?” asked Joan.

“I’m here to avenge my niece,” said the mermaid. She took a vicious bite out of a strawberry and munched it meaningfully, glaring over at the pair of princes.

“But what about after that?” said Fred. “What will you do?”

“Oh,” said Maris, a strange look crossing her lovely face. “I don’t know. Um, some kind of crafting projects, I guess?”

“Really?” said Alice. A rosy blush stained Maris cheeks.

“Fine,” she said. “I’d like to spend more time working on my erotic fiction. I have a decent audience as it is and I know if I could just make some more time… and well yes, I enjoy making people happy. ”

“Cheers to that,” said Fred, lifting his glass.

They sat in the dappled shade and feasted till their stomachs ached. When the plates were only crumbs and watermelon rind Joan declared that she could wait no longer and strode off to find the treasure. The rest of the party trailed after her, clutching their middles and stumbling along, bumping into the occasional palm tree.

“Is she always so… motivated?” whispered Prince Hans into Epic’s ear.

“Yes,” said Epic.

“Come on you lazy, landlubbers!” shouted Joan from up the beach. “Let’s get digging!”

Grumbling companionably the party started digging in the loose sand, using sticks, bits of driftwood and their own hands. In the end the treasure chest was easy to find as it wasn’t buried very deeply. Tawny brown and sturdy with shiny brass fittings, Fred and Hans heaved it out of the hole and set it in the shade of a nearby palm. Joan knelt in front of it, her eyes sparkling. She inserted the golden key and the lock popped open. The lid swung clear to the sound of an angelic chorus, and golden light spilled out, bathing their faces in buttery yellow.

“Ooooooh,” said everyone.

Inside were heavy piles of gold coins, a delicate shell necklace, a couple of books, a scroll, a cutlass, a trident, a solitary peanut butter sandwich and a wheel of cheese with ‘Sponsored by The Cheese Shop’ stamped on it in large letters.

“The Trident of the Tides,” said Joan, examining the giant blue and turquoise metal weapon. “Fred maybe?”

“Thank you, my love,” said Fred. “That should do nicely.”

“Why do I feel like we are gearing up for an underwater battle?” said Alice, glumly.

“Here,” said Joan, and handed her the shiny, curved cutlass. “Have a nice new cutlass and cheer up.”

“Not bad,” admitted Alice. She leaned in and picked up the nearest book, bound in discrete brown leather. She pursed her lips as she read the cover then, broke into a smile.

“It’s a Sir Dickens,” she said, and handed it to Fred with a wink.

“Oooh, thank you,” he said. “It’s one we haven’t read yet.”

Joan rolled her eyes. Then she dived forward, elbowing Alice out of the way. She straightened, her eyes sparkling and brandished a blue-bound book at them.

“Ahaha!” she said, holding it aloft. “Ahahahaha!”

“She’s become a supervillain,” remarked Alice. “Just a matter of time. Someone get her a cat.”

Epic glowered.

“Oops.”

“What is it?” asked Fred.

“The recipe for mermaid tails,” said Joan, in triumph, flicking through the pages. She held it up dramatically .

“That sounds fun,” said Fred.

“No, no,” said Joan, waving the book around, “you don’t understand! This is the recipe for the best underwater breathing spell in existence! No more suffocating, no more time limit!”

“Oh,” said Fred. “That does sound good.”

“So, what do we need?” asked Epic. “I presume it’s not as simple as eating a tuna sandwich. I assume gathering the ingredients will be the next thing we need to do?”

Joan’s lips moved as she read down the recipe, her brows drawing together.

“Seaweed from the sunken ruins,” she said. “Check. Mermaid’s tears. Hmmm … those are difficult to find.” She looked up at Maris, chewing her lip speculatively. “Any chance you are feeling a bit weepy?” she asked hopefully.

“Oh!” said Alice, and reached into one of her pockets, drawing out a small bag. She tipped the glittering contents into her palm and offered them to Joan.

“Where did you get those!” demanded Joan, grabbing her wrist and plucking up the tiny diamond-like stones. She held one up, admiring it in the sparkling rays of the sun.

“Earlier,” said Alice. “We were talking about how Maris’ niece was murdered and-”

“Excellent!”

Fred coughed, his eyes expressive.

“Joan, we’ve talked about this…”

Joan looked stricken, and glanced guiltily at Maris. The mermaid raised one perfect black brow. Joan reached out and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Sorry for your loss and sorry that your niece was murdered. I truly am.” She held out a small bag. “Next time you are sad can you cry into this?” Joan glanced at Fred. “Please.”

Fred sighed and rolled his eyes.

“What else?” said Alice.

“Sixteen walrus whiskers,” continued Joan, reading aloud as her finger traced the words on the page. “Juice from a rainbow sea urchin. A teaspoon of kraken blood, got some of that, that thing oozed all over my ship. Mix with a tablespoon of seawater and a tablespoon of rain. Marinade all ingredients in a hollowed-out coral with a clam pearl (not an oyster, that would turn you into a reverse mermaid, and trust me you don't want the head of a fish), and leave overnight. Drink by the light of a rising moon. Tails should last for twenty-four hours. While in mermaid form make sure you stay suitably moist. Side effects include an aversion to pasta, sudden urges to sing and extended bouts of hair brushing.”

“Sounds simple enough!” said Prince Hans.

“Yes!” said Joan, happily.

“Nothing is ever simple,” said Alice, a trifle dourly.

“So where to next?” said Joan.

Fred turned his head, frowning at something further along the beach, something that glinted in the sunlight. A glass bottle lying innocently in the surf. Inside, just visible through the frosted glass, a curled up note.

“If I’m not mistaken,” he said. “I think our next quest has arrived.”

Alice69 Level 12

Class: Rogue ♥♥♥ ♥♥♥

XP: 2453

HP: 72/72 [+6 Fine Pirate Blouse +8 Black Leather Trousers (+4Charisma) +2 Ordinary Belt +1 Leather Belt + 2 Fancy Belt +1 Boring Bra + 5 Belt of Holding + 2 Decent Knickers +5 Iron Dagger  + 15 Alice Against the Patriarchy Blade +5 Spider Slippers (+2 Sneak) + 20 Curvy Cutlass]

Bonus: Dual Wield; Identify; Iron Stomach; +20  HP Water Buff

+10 Sneaking (2 from Spider Slippers)

+ 8 Lockpicking

+11 Thieving

+4 Cooking

+6 Discipline

+9 Charisma (4 from Black Leather Trousers)

+6 Firemaking

+2 Swimming

The Fredinator Level 12

Class: Monk ♥♥♥ ♥♥♥ ♥♥♥

XP: 2483

HP: 67/93 [+ 4 Sexy Sandals + 3 Batman Boxers + 20 Novice Monk’s Robes +5 Austere Rope Belt + 1 teaspoon + 15 Staff of Glorious Bonkery +20 One-Handed Crossbow of Awesome +25 Trident of the Tides]

Bonus: Dual Wield, Condensed Milk lv 2, Identify, +20  HP Water Buff

+13 Charisma

+11 Elevation

+ 5 Sneaking

+14 Discipline

+6 Cooking

+3 Herbalism

+5Firemaking

+3 Swimming

Epic Failure Level 12

Class: Barbarian  ♥♥♥ ♥♥♥

XP: 2654

HP: 98/98 [20 Shimmering Chainmail Shirt of Protection + 4 Nice Bra + 2 Cotton Knickers + 15 Very Nice Boots + 4 Self Cleansing Cotton Undershirt +5 Battle Skirt + 4 Sexy Socks + 20 Victoria Sponge War Axe +24 Murderous Morning Star]

Bonus: Identify, Dual Wield, Berserker Rage, Summon Stinkums, +20  HP Water Buff

+4 Herbalism

+8 Cooking

+10 Thieving

+5 Sneaking

+8 Firemaking

+4 Swimming

Joan of Snark Level 13

Class: Druid ♥♥♥ ♥♥♥ ♥♥♥

XP: 2854

HP: 560/560   [+ 3 Scandalous Knickers + 3 Fancy Bra + 1 teaspoon + 2 Green Woolly Socks + 12 Thigh High Lady Boss Boots + 5 Iron Dagger + 20 Ash Staff  +5 Pirate Blouse + 3 Belt + 10 Pirate Pants + 4 Whale-Bone Corset + 2 Tricorn Hat]

Bonus: x8 HP Bonus, Identify (LVL 2), Plant Whisperer, +20  HP Water Buff

+5 Firemaking

+10 Cooking

+12 Herbalism

+ 7 Sneaking

+4 Lockpicking

+2 Charisma

+12 Potion Making

+2 Swimming