A Princess of The Linear Jungle

confidently into the room, Merritt dropped her notebook and pen. Bending over to retrieve the items, she felt her face mottling up. Straightening, she found the bluff liquor distributor regarding her with a distinct leer. Tarry scents of a vanished rope locker infused Merritt’s nostrils. She heard nothing of Troutwine’s presentation, but it must have been successful because he left smiling.
    “My next concern involves porters. We need some sturdy, reliable fellows to bear our supplies into the interior of Vayavirunga, where any kind of wheeled vehicles, featuring impellers or otherwise, would be impractical—at least so far as we can reasonably conjecture. After surveying local delivery firms, I settled on a bike-messenger outfit. They won’t be able to employ their bikes, naturally, but the messengers are all in superb physical shape, and quite used to safeguarding whatever is entrusted to them. I have the firm’s vice-president ready outside.”
    Dan Peart presented no embarrassing memories for Merritt to contend with. But his presence here nonetheless contributed to her growing sense of unreality. She had never mentioned these two mento Arturo Scoria, so no intentional actions on his part could have brought them to this room. Merritt experienced a momentary sense of some unknowable force molding her life into a strange destiny, before Peart’s clipped speech dragged her focus back to the room.
    “Strong backs, strong legs, plenty of balls. That’s what you’re getting when you hire our boys. I’ll be there myself to inspire them.”
    The Board seemed impressed. Peart departed. Scoria continued.
    “Entrance to Vayavirunga, as I will elaborate in a written presentation later, is going to be tricky. My feeling is we’ll do best to approach by water. Therefore, I’ve hired a boat that will meet us in Hakelight by setting out some time ahead of the rest of the expeditionary force, which will motor more swiftly down Broadway.”
    By this point, Merritt did not even flinch when Art nominated Captain Canebrake of the Samuel Smallhorne as his choice. She merely felt eerily prophetic.
    “There are a few other trivial details to attend to, gentlemen, but there you have the major features of this assault on the Jungle Blocks. What do you say?”
    President Ogallala smiled broadly, his nut-brown face creasing into well-worn laugh lines. He seemed disproportionately elated, and Merritt immediately suspected some monkeywrench in Arturo’s plans. But this once, Scoria bulked overconfident and failed to see the blow approaching.
    “You have lived up to your reputation for boldness and perspicacity and far-sightedness, Professor Scoria. But you have forgotten one crucial failsafe measure. A backup for the most vital part of the mission.”
    “And that would be?”
    “Yourself.”
    President Ogallala got up and opened the Boardroom door. “Come in, please, Professor.”
    To his credit, Durian Vinnagar exhibited no expression of vindictive triumph or gleeful one-upmanship. Rather, he maintained his usual dour, sober and phlegmatic mien, allowing President Ogallala to state Vinnagar’s case by proxy.
    “As you are well aware, Professor Scoria, Professor Vinnagar represents a different school of polypolisology than the one you adhere to. His unique insights and perceptions will counterbalance yours, and ensure that no potential findings of this mission are overlooked. Moreover, should one of you chance to come to harm, the other will be able to continue directing the expedition. Professor Vinnagar has many backers in the department—and among alumni and donors—who all render his presence on this mission essential and non-negotiable. Although he will of course assume subordinate status to you, since it was your discovery that prompted this whole affair.”
    Merritt watched Arturo’s face cycle through a whole spectrum of emotions, from frustration and irritability through rage and jealousy, before settling on wounded resignation. He stepped forward and thrust out his hand.
    “Vinnagar, I’m counting on you for sensible support. No ideological feuding.”
    Vinnagar grinned, and took the offered grip. “You have my word—by Vasuki’s tail.”

    In the wild welter of the following few months, Merritt was kept exceedingly busy arranging all the thousand-and-one details of the Vayavirunga Expedition. She even learned to liaise with journalists, who maintained a constant appetite for all news relating to the