UNDERCOVER on the TITANIC (book 1)

Part 2 - Triple Oh

I cautiously twisted my neck and mopped my bleeding nose with my sleeve as Darth Vader lifted his visor. He was grinning like a fool. 'How was that Triple Oh?'

''T'was well done.' Triple Oh nodded approvingly and turned to Dunc who was looking up at him expectantly. 'Tarry not whilst thou seek haggis. Pursue them with alacrity. Hasten . . . Away!'

Dunc lifted a wing in a sketchy salute. 'Aye, aye captain.' He pivoted on one webbed foot, padded into the road and took flight after the car, chanting, 'Guluk - oik, Guluk - oik,' like a battle cry.

 Triple Oh pushed his bug-eye sunglasses up onto his polka dot bandana and grinned at me. 'Thou art Master Ziff Dion.' It didn't sound like a question. 'Well met.' 

He had a soft voice, which didn't match his bulk. This was weird. Three strangers – well two people and one goose – knew my name. But I didn't like talking to tattooed bikers with long, greasy hair, especially if they spoke archaic English and reeked of aftershave scent. 'Triple Oh what?' I snapped belligerently.

He chuckled. 'Triple Oh Naught. I am named Olaf Oscar Onderdonk. My companion is known as Theo and thou hast met Duncan. Art thou hurt?'

'Only when I laugh,' I retorted sarcastically and then I felt bad. It wasn't his fault. He rummaged through a bulging pouch dangling from a wide belt. Under his jacket he wore an odd black leather vest with laces instead of zippers. I thought he was searching for a tissue but he pulled out a stubby feather and a small, round bottle before locating a deeply-engraved ring which he forced onto the little finger of his enormous right hand. 

He stuffed the objects back into the pouch and held out the hand which I shook without thinking. 'I am enchanted to meet thee at last,' he said as if he had been waiting a long time. 

His grip was soft but I felt a tingle like an electric shock where the ring touched me and I snatched my hand away. There was a small red mark like a mosquito bite. I sucked my knuckle as Onderdonk peered at the ornate ring. 'I suppose that's the ring to rule them all,' I scoffed. 

He tossed back his head and guffawed, a great blast of laughter. 'Lords of the Ring! I read it for my twentieth century course. A merry jest. But a sample of genetic material is needed.' He used four fingers to scratch the grey stubble at the side of his double chin.

Theo seemed uninterested in the conversation. He sat astride the Harley and lowered his wrap-around visor which reflected a wash of rainbow colours as he turned his head scanning the scene like a radar antenna. 

'Perforce, I will be brief,' Triple Oh said. 'We seek the malefactor Murga.  Where can he be found?'

I stared . . . Murga again.  I could barely understand him.  Perforce?  What was a male factor, some sort of criminal?  Onderdonk misunderstood my puzzled expression.

'Thou knowest not Murga . . . the prophet?' 

'Never heard of him.  You must have made a mistake.'  

He frowned. 'Thou knowest not whom thou art?'

It took me a moment to realize that was a question. 'I thought I was Master Ziff Dion.'

Onderdonk tilted his head and his blue eyes twinkled around his large nose. 'Pray forgive mine error,' he said gravely. Then, almost speaking to himself he mused, 'I would know the meaning of this mischief.' He sipped his coffee and looked at Darth Vader with a broad grin. 'Theo, thou addlepated farthingwit, methinks four and twenty furlongs and six parsecs are all the same to thee.' 

From somewhere behind the glittering visor, Theo replied in a squeaky voice. 'Ollie, yards and furlongs are archaic. One furlong is 220 yards or 201.2 metres. One parsec is 3.26 light-years or 30.86 Petametres. And, forgive me for mentioning it Ollie but, if we don't leave soon, Murga the Prophet will be profiting all over South East Asia.'

'Pray, call me not Ollie,' Onderdonk grumbled peevishly.  'And plague us not with bad puns.'

'Hee, hee,' Theo chuckled. 'Then, Triple Oh it shall be, Squire!'

Triple Oh rolled his eyes as he turned back to me. ' A thousand pardons for my friend's buffoonery, master Ziff. If thou wilt permit, we shall hasten away with alacrity . . .  Guard thyself against the one called Murga.'

He turned to Theo. 'Perturb thy brain and quickly exeunt left. We are too soon in this time.'

'What's an addlepated farthingwit?' I asked.

Onderdonk chuckled as he swung his leg over the passenger saddle. 'One half of a halfwit. A quarter penny is a farthing.'

Theo started the motor as Onderdonk pulled on his helmet. He gunned the throttle so the blatting exhaust noise made conversation impossible. Onderdonk raised his coffee cup in salute and bellowed, 'We shall return anon.'

'Wait!' I shouted. 'Who is this Murga?' But the Harley was already thundering into the turn and was soon out of sight amid a sudden rush of traffic.

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