Butler Did It! (13 page)

Butler laughed. “Well, it is supposed
to be a business, but it’s usually pretty entertaining, and
sometimes a little dangerous. Mostly, we are hired to support the
researchers doing the experimenting, but occasionally I’ll fund a
project, if I think an idea has potential.”

<<>>

Katherine and Butler then joined a
small crowd at the railing amidships, which included many of the
people she had met earlier that morning. Captain Z, EB, Chan, and
about half of the crew not on duty were leaning on the railing and
staring into the water below.

As Katherine reached the railing she
asked in a timid voice, “what's going on?”

Before Butler could reply, EB
sarcastically explained.

“My about-to-be ex-boyfriend is going
to show everyone what an idiot he really is.”

“…
I don't understand
…”

Butler quickly came to her rescue with
a much better explanation.

“Our esteemed genius, Tommy Cooper, has
come up with a compound that he thinks is a super lubricant. He's
going to test it on one of our jet skis.”

“Let's see, isn’t Tommy Head of
Research and …?”

Before she could finish the question,
Chan suggested, “Disaster?”

Salvador chimed in with,
“Disregard?”

EB followed with, “Debacle?”

“Development,” growled Butler, ignoring
the others.

Katherine looked over the railing.
Tommy was hunched over a Jet Ski holding a bottle. He was carefully
pouring its contents into the crankcase. Butler leaned nearer to EB
and whispered loudly,

“What's the score?”

EB whispered back loud enough that
everyone along the railing could hear. “Three hits, no runs, and
one error.”

“One error,” Butler asked, slightly
puzzled.

“You remember the incident with the
self-flushing toilet, don't you?”

A pained look crossed Butler's face.
“Oh yeah! I had forgotten all about the Cooper Pooper.”

“You know that the man has four
different advanced degrees.” Butler defended his friend.

“Yeah, Tommy is a screw-up, but he is
the smartest screw-up I know.” An anonymous voice
returned.

Chan leaned over to EB and asked,
“What's the risk factor?”

EB responded quickly. “Physically, I’d
say it’s moderate to low, financially, however, counting labor,
materials, and the jet-ski of course, I'd have to say …about
$20,000.”

Chan whistled softly.

“Ouch!” Butler groaned.

EB turned to Butler. “You really should
discourage this. Maybe you could dock his pay.”

“He owes me for three years, already.”
Butler returned, shaking his head.

Tommy was directing a couple of
crewmembers and a crane operator in offloading the Jet Ski. Once
that was done, he turned and looked up at the side of the ship and
addressed the crowd along the rail.

“Well folks, I'll bet you're all
wondering…”

“Get on with it!” A heckler in the
crowd bellowed.

“Okay, okay. Now, I know that the
Philistines in this crowd think my inventions never work, but this
one can't miss.”

With a flourish, he produced the bottle
of yellowish looking crud. “Ladies, Gentlemen, and skeptics, may I
present Cooper’s Magic Elixir, a blend of fragrant oils and
emollients that will improve the efficiency of any engine by
reducing friction by a factor of four. This money-saving product is
good for small engines like this Jet Ski, as well as engines large
enough to propel a ship.”

With that last comment, he looked
directly at EB.

EB immediately shot him down. “You're
not putting that gunk in my engines!”

Her comment didn't deter him in the
slightest.

“Now, I will proceed with the
demonstration.”

As Tommy climbed onto the Jet Ski,
Butler turned to Captain Z.

“Captain, would you arrange for a
rescue boat and a diver, just in case.”

“That’s a damn good idea,” Captain Z
growled, as he reached for the intercom.

Butler then turned to Salvador. “Run
down to Sick Bay and ask Doc to join us. I have a feeling we’re
going to need him.”

Katherine was a little confused. “I
don't understand,” she said, addressing everyone at the railing,
“Isn't Tommy your friend? Why don't you believe in him?”

“History,” Chan muttered aloud, “years
and years of history!”

Tommy pulled on a neoprene wet suit, a
life-vest and a crash helmet with a built-in microphone. After a
sound check that sent the word “testing” booming through the main
deck’s loudspeaker, he fired up the Jet Ski and let it idle for
only a short time before he signaled to the crowd standing along
the railing of the bridge with an upraised hand, and then gave the
Jet Ski a little throttle. The Jet Ski leapt forward as if goosed,
throwing a rooster tail high in the air. In no time, Tommy was
speeding across the choppy ocean waves. Tommy's number one
assistant pulled out a radar gun to track him as he made his run.
The assistant began calling out the jet skis’ speed over the
intercom. From a slow start, it accelerated rapidly, 30, 35, 40,
and 45 miles per hour. At 50 miles an hour, the ski was moving
faster than it had been designed to. At 65 miles an hour, Butler
became seriously concerned. He yelled down to the technician, to
have Tommy shut it down. The technician’s radio call went unheeded.
At 75 miles per hour, the Jet Ski suddenly rose up head over tail
and began flying upside down in the air.

Over the intercom, a drawn out “Ohhhhh,
shiiiiitttttt,” distinctly echoed.

EB shrieked and Katherine gasped in
horror as Tommy flew upside-down across the water still clinging to
the handles of the Jet Ski. Butler immediately raced to the railing
and unnecessarily yelled down to the technician to get the rescue
boat and diver on their way. Even before he spoke, the rescue boat
was flying across the water toward Tommy.

Wisely, once upside-down, Tommy let go
of the handles, letting the Jet Ski fall away from him. He bounced
off the water’s surface hard, spun, and began skipping ass first,
much like a stone skipping across a pond. After five skips, he
tumbled several times, lost momentum, and finally disappeared into
a wave.

Butler, watching the cruiser speed out
to Tommy, urged the rescue attempt on with, “Go-Go-Go,” as he
gripped the railing with white knuckles.

Next to him, one of the technicians
yelled into the microphone. “Tommy, can you hear me? Tommy, are you
all right?”

In a matter of seconds, the rescue boat
arrived at Tommy’s ersatz sitzmark only to find him bobbing in the
water with a silly grin on his face. At the urging of the diver,
Tommy waved a hand over his head to let everyone know that he was
okay.

Butler, obviously relieved, joked. “If
that crazy son of a bitch didn't break his neck out there, I’m
going to do it myself when he gets back.”

In no time, the rescue boat returned
with a mildly bruised Tommy, pretty much in one piece, but rather
skinned-up in those places that his life vest hadn't protected.
Butler met Tommy at the railing as he climbed gingerly up to the
main deck.

“Whooie! That was fun. I want to do
that again!”

“Why didn't you shut it down when I
told you to?”

“Sorry Matthew, I couldn't hear you,”
he said, pointing to his ear and shaking his head. “The motor was
too loud… but did you see how fast it was going? I’m sure the
engine was running faster than it ever did before.”

“Yeah, my concern is …”

Tommy, totally consumed in his own
adrenaline-laced mind game, rudely interrupted.

“Did you recover the jet ski? It was
running just fine and then all of a sudden, it went clunk!” Tommy
babbled. “You know, we will need to do a full diagnostic of the
engine, of course.”

Butler growled at a couple of
crewmembers, “Take this bum down to Sickbay, and break out a
workboat and recover that Jet Ski, before it sinks.”

“You can’t sink a Jet ski!” Tommy
hollered as the crewmembers dragged him below to
sickbay.

“You can if the hull has been cracked
by hitting the water at an unbelievably stupid rate of speed.”
Butler retorted to the rapidly disappearing Tommy.

After seeing the Jet Ski safely
returned to the Pelican, and inspecting what was left of it,
Matthew and Katharine went below to see what the prognosis was on
Tommy.

Doc had just finished his examination
and was wrapping Tommy’s ankle in an elastic bandage. “Come on in.
I’m done with this reprobate for now,” Doc greeted them.

Butler gave Tommy his hardest stare,
good old #6, 'Extreme Disapproval'. Apparently, it worked quite
well, since Tommy immediately started apologizing. Butler kept the
stoic scowl on his face, saying nothing.

“Come on Matthew; just give me the
chewing that I deserve. I readily admit I screwed up.”

“No,” Butler answered with restraint,
“I think I'll let someone else do that; someone who's much better
at it than I am.” Butler looked over at the door. As a sickening
realization dawned, Tommy slowly followed his gaze. Standing in the
doorway was an extremely pissed off EB. She immediately stomped
into the room with blood in her eyes.

Without thinking, Tommy volunteered his
girlfriend, “Hey, this is perfect! EB can do the diagnostic on the
engine.” He told Butler.

“So, ten minutes after a near-death
experience, you finally remember you have a girlfriend.” EB
growled. “You silly son-of-a-bitch, you could have been
killed!”

Of course, about then, she noticed that
Tommy was nursing a sprained wrist, a bandaged ankle, and still
holding a compress to his scalp. Her anger evaporated and she took
the compress from his hand with tears in her eyes.

Butler turned to the doctor. “So, how
is he, Doc?”

“I’ve seen worse wounds in a
kindergarten.” Doc growled. “It's mostly scrapes and bruises. The
strained wrist and twisted knee are minor. He’ll definitely live to
crash another day.” Subtly referring to the fact that EB had
completely taken over as Tommy’s nurse, Doc added, “All in all, he
is quite lucky, in more ways than one.”

“Perhaps, we should let them alone for
a while.” Butler suggested.

Butler knew that EB wasn’t going to be
in the mood to look at the Jet Ski and so decided to ask Dr.
Wilkinson, the geochemist who had joined them in Mombasa to check
it out and, hopefully, determine what caused the
accident.

The analysis of the engine arrived
about two hours later.

“The engine did what?” Butler
asked

“First, you’ve got to understand that
this really is not my field.” Professor Wilkinson waffled. “I’m a
geochemist, not an organic chemist.”

“I understand. Just go ahead and tell
me what you can.”

“Well, here goes. Apparently, while the
engine was running, it just decided to seize up.” The scientist
replied.

Butler raised an eyebrow, “I think we
all figured that much out.”

“When we picked up the Jet Ski, the
engine was still pretty hot from the trial run. I opened the
crankcase, and found that it was filled with a black, solidified
mass; for want of a better word let’s call it a tar. Yet, as soon
as this tar cooled off, it turned back into oil again.”

This was all new to Butler, who found
it mildly interesting in a bizarre way.

“So in other words you’re telling me
that Tommy’s Super Slick glued the engine in my Jet Ski.” Butler
said with finality.

“As near as I can figure, the gunk
Tommy put in the crankcase worked fairly well until the oil reached
a specific thermal threshold, and then long chains of polymers
formed in the slick, causing the oil to set up into a rigid
matrix.”

“At what temperature did it happen, do
you think?”

“Well, if I had to guess, it would
probably have been somewhere around 600 degrees,
Fahrenheit.”

“So, Tommy invented a substance that at
low temperature lubricates well, but begins to set up once a
certain temperature threshold is reached.”

“That’s my professional
opinion.”

“What good is oil that seizes at high
temperature and flows at a low one?”

“Fortunately, that's not my field
either.”

<<>>

As soon as they could get Tommy
released from EB’s tender care, Matthew and Katharine collected him
for the trip back to her hotel room. She needed to check in on the
SUBIOS activities going on that day, and hoped to pick up some of
her gear. Matthew and Tommy wanted to see if they could determine
just how much danger she might be in.

Tommy was limping as he joined them on
the platform.

“Yes, yes I’m fine, it’s just a few
bumps and a headache, I’ll be okay,” declared Tommy as he helped
Katharine into the Carmine Electra.