Page 12 - Effable Encounters

Batrachomyomachy

The professor waved a spindly limb toward the disputed border
area. “Once established, the frice would stay in their niche. We need
not fear their overrunning our pond or our adversaries’ tree, since
they cannot compete effectively in either environment with animals
totally adapted to those specific circumstances. In a few short
months, the hostilities would be over; we could disband our military
forces, and end the nightmare of this costly and protracted war. Isn’t
it wonderful?”
General Bullcroak grunted. “So you scientists have gotten to the
point where you can design any kind of animal you want, eh?”
The professor eagerly nodded assent, bobbing up and down and
blinking myopically.
Well, I’m very pleased to learn about it. My own advisors have not
kept me up-to-date; perhaps it is time for a shake-up in the general
staff. Be that as it may, I cannot allow events to overtake us. Now,
listen carefully to me, professor. I am willing to give you one more
chance: if you obey my orders, I am sure that your treasonous
activities can be overlooked.”
Lonestone gulped. “What orders, sir?”
“First, you must cease meddling in affairs of state; leave policy to
the military bureaucracy, where it belongs. You did not consider that
sharing this discovery with the other side would have any
consequences other than those you desire. That is terribly naive, and
has upset the balance of power. The mice may, at this very moment,
be preparing an unpleasant surprise for us in their laboratories. We
must do the same, now that the cat is out of the bag. So, go back to
your drawing board, professor, and make me a super-frog. Here are
some preliminary specifications: he must be totally obedient, easily
cloned and able to work underwater for hours without food, oxygen,
or sleep. I have a plan forming in my mind: a way to drown those
miserable rodents in their nest without totally draining our pond, but
to do the dirty work I need a kind of frog that doesn’t yet exist. You
will create him—and soon; do you understand? Not some silly hybrid
pacifist frouse! Now, get out of here and get to work!”
Lonestone sprang from the spot and bounded away. Bullcroak
returned to his vigil, surveying the battle-line and wondering, with a
freshly-inspired paranoia, what move the mice would make.

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