The Educated Ape & other Wonders of the Worlds (61 page)

The
wedding did not occur in secret at a gambling city upon Jupiter, but was a
state occasion in the very heart of London. Queen Victoria attended. So too did
many of the senior ecclesiastics of Venus.

Their
telepathic powers had enabled them to know the part Leah had played in the
destruction of the Lady Beast, and as she had every intention of marrying Lord
Brentford anyway, no matter what they thought, they deemed it diplomatically
best to give the wedding their blessing.

Darwin
proudly fulfilled his role as best monkey-man, even making a speech at the
reception, which greatly amused Queen Victoria.

Lord
and Lady Brentford were flown to Jupiter at Her Majesty’s expense to enjoy a
week’s honeymoon at the gambling city.

And one month
later, in the company of others, they gathered at the Victoria Palace Theatre.
They did not come to enjoy the pleasures of the music hall, but to say their
fond farewells.

To
Darwin and Cameron Bell.

Mr
Bell looked very chipper and was particularly well dressed. He had recently
received great accolades and even greater financial remuneration for restoring
the stolen reliquaries to their rightful owners. Princess Pamela’s he had
hurled into the sea, that the four could never be reunited.

He
had declined, however, the entreaties from the newly knighted Chief Inspector
Case to aid him in solving the Crime of the New Century. The one involving the
three million pounds’ worth of gold looted mysteriously from the Bank of
England and replaced with a pile of old junk.

He
said his farewells to Chief Inspector Case and shook the policeman by the hand.
He knew that their paths would never cross again.

Ernest
Rutherford’s time-ship, the
Marie Lloyd,
stood in the auditorium of the
theatre, its entrance port open, gubbinry glowing within.

It
was late in the evening now and the Large Hadron Collider that passed for the
Circle Line was in full operation doing what it did and slowing time.

Mr
Rutherford stood before the time-ship with the heavily veiled Miss Violet Wond.

Darwin
was dressed in the uniform of Space Admiral of the Fleet.

Ernest
Rutherford approached the ape of time. He handed Darwin the operating manual
and the letter addressed to Mr Rutherford that Darwin would deliver to the
chemist nine months into the past. ‘You know what has to be done,’ he said to
Darwin.

‘I
do,’ said Darwin, sadly. ‘I must travel back in time and deliver this letter to
Mr Bell at Lord Brentford’s soirée. And on that night, Lord Brentford will
shoot me dead.’

‘Very
sorry about that,’ said his lordship. ‘Bit of a misunderstanding. Thought you
were an anarchist, or a Martian suicide pilot.’

Darwin
shook his lordship’s hand. ‘It was not your fault,’ said he.

Lord
Brentford wiped away a manly tear. ‘A few things I wanted to say to you, my
boy,’ said he. ‘I have thanked you many times for what you achieved regarding
the Grand Exposition. Without you it could not have gone ahead.’

‘I
simply did what I could do,’ said Darwin. ‘It felt like the right thing, and if
it is the right thing, I think you should do it if you can. I have wondered
hard about Man and Monkey, about justice, about the rich and poor, but I have
drawn no conclusions. I really do not know what it is all about. Or what,
indeed, any of it means.

‘Let
me tell you something,’ said Lord Brentford. ‘Something that my father told to
me. Everyone wonders at times, you see, about what it all means. Whether there
is
a meaning to life. My father thought he had an answer, and it was this. If,
when finally you leave this world behind, you can do so knowing that you did
your best to make it just a little better than it was when you entered it, then
your life has had a meaning.’

‘And
that
is the meaning of life?’ said Darwin.

‘I
think so,’ said Lord Brentford. ‘Not all of us can be big famous people with
the potential to do great good. But even the most humble amongst us can help
make the world a little bit better, rather than a little bit worse.

‘I
shall remember that,’ said Darwin. ‘Although for something of a brief period,
I believe. But I will bear it in mind when my end comes. I hope I have made
this world a slightly better place by being here.’

‘You
have, my boy, you have.’ Lord Brentford now gave Darwin a very manly hug.

‘And
you have to come with me, Mr Bell,’ said Darwin, ‘at least for part of the
journey. I know you got to meet your future self upon Mars.’

‘I
did indeed,’ said Cameron Bell, ‘and the encounter set me to thinking. Recall,
if you will, that the you that crashed the time-ship into the Bananary was a
very
old
you.’

‘A
very
old
me,’ said Darwin.

‘Well,’
said Mr Bell, ‘the me I met upon Mars was rather old, too. Looked very much the
same, of course — portly men with baldy heads appear to age rather well.’

‘So
how old were you?’ asked Darwin.

‘Eighty-seven,’
said Cameron Bell. ‘You see, my little partner, it would appear that you and I
will go on to have many adventures aboard the
Marie Lloyd
and live to be
very old before you meet your fated end. There are many wonderful things and
times we might visit. You missed the end of the Ninth Symphony. I think we
should travel back and see Beethoven himself conduct it. What do you say to
this?’

‘Ah,’
said Darwin. ‘How absolutely splendid.’

‘Just
one thing,’ said Mr Rutherford. ‘Before the two of you depart. If you will
pardon us.

He
led Violet Wond into the time-ship and the entrance port closed upon them.

There
came from within a whirling and grinding of engines. The time-ship flickered —
then vanished — then all of an instant returned.

The
port swung down and Mr Rutherford stepped from the time-ship. He now wore a
very dashing silver suit with flaring shoulders and trouser bottoms and a pair
of shoes with platform soles.

Upon
his arm was a lady in a sparkling silver gown that hugged her slender body. A
lady with a beautiful radiant face. She had grey-green eyes and the sweetest
nose that might be imagined and her smile fairly lit up the great auditorium.

‘I
can recommend the future,’ said Mr Rutherford.

Miss
Violet Wond leaned forward and kissed Darwin on the cheek.

And
as it should be, at the end of a great performance, there was not a dry eye in
the house.

Cameron
Bell, the great detective, and Darwin the educated ape bade their farewells
and walked into the time—ship hand in hand.

The port swung shut.

The engines whirled

And then the

ship was

GONE

EPILOGUE

Lop
Lop, God of all the Birds,

looked
down from the Heavens

and
spoke with the Great Mother Hen

‘I
just do not know what to make of

Mankind,’
said Lop Lop. ‘Sometimes I

find
it hard to believe that
they
are

descended
from
us.’

The
Great Mother Hen snuggled down

upon
her vast galactic nest.

‘I
rather liked the monkey, though,’

said
she.

AUTHOR’S AFTERWORD

During the
opening years of the Second World War, my father, serving as a fireman, was
stationed in Lily Road, Fulham. As someone who had always loved the circus,
this gave him many opportunities to visit the one permanently showing at
Olympia.

There
were many sideshows there and my father became friendly with several folk who
displayed themselves before the public. He recalled a giant who could pass a
copper penny through the ring he wore on his little finger and an albino from
the Congo with white hair twenty-four inches in length. One sideshow
particularly fascinated him. It was only there for a week, but he went to see
it several times. It featured a talking monkey that could answer questions put
to it by the crowd. My father said his first thoughts were that this was some
kind of ventriloquist act. But after several viewings he became utterly
convinced that the monkey could actually reason and speak. He could not recall
the showman’s name, only that he bore an uncanny resemblance to Mr Pickwick. He
remembered the monkey’s name, however, as it made him smile to think of it.
The monkey’s name was Darwin and I’m very glad he made my father smile.

THE END