Candied's Science

By Ian Mims

On an estate in the north of Angeland lived the ex-football player Lord Fred of Morphalli. He dwelt in a modern castle with conspicuous round turrets that was a monument to his assets, for the stone edifice seemed to reflect an inverted pair of the tight-fitting stylish trousers for which his lordship was notably famous. There was no doubt that Lord Fred was particularly well endowed.
Also living in the castle was an orphan. Candied. together with Lord Freds daughter, Cutiegard, and their private tutor Dr Pang-loss The honourable teacher had a theme that we lived in the best possible of all worlds for we could exploit technology to change everything.
One day Cutiegard was walking through the woods around the castle when she saw Dr Pang-loss in the bushes apparently trying out some new techniques on a chambermaid. She explained what she had seen over the dinner table that night and was horrified to see her tutor get dismissed
Candied observed this whole disaster and in despair called out to his departing tutor. Oh wise one, how can I follow in your footsteps and improve the technology that you have practiced and to which I have dedicated my life?
There was a brief silence and then he heard Pang-loss voice as he disappeared down the path to the village. It was the advice that was to change his life.
You had better enroll at a University

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Jun 28, 2004
• ISBN: 9781466956926

Book preview

Part 1.

The Early Years

Chapter 1. The beginning

On an estate in the north of Angleland lived the ex-football player Lord Fred of Morphalli. He dwelt in a modern castle with conspicuous round turrets that was a monument to his assets for the stone edifice seemed to reflect an inverted pair of the tight-fitting stylish trousers for which he was notably famous. There was, therefore, no doubt that Lord Fred was particularly well endowed as befitted the leading citizen of Morphalli.

The castle itself lay within a walled garden that surrounded the only fresh spring in the area. The water was cool and sweet and was so abundant that it flowed continually into the courtyard, through the kitchens, past the latrines and out to the other citizens of Morphalli. As the Baron jokingly explained it was important to keep a steady flow of water through the castle to avoid poisoning the stock and citizens downstream.

Not only did this stronghold have running water, but it was cooled by the mountain air in the summer and heated in the winter by logs from the land that was progressively being cleared from the surrounding forest. Supplying logs to the castle was an important function of the local farmers for the land that it exposed was used to grow crops and they all knew that it was important to have a continual supply of fresh earth to replace the old soil as it became soured and depleted. As befitted the environmental interests of his Lordship he retained the mineral rights to the cleared land and periodically had it surveyed as a service to the local farmers.

Life was good in his Lordship’s household and the Lady Baroness, who weighed three hundred and fifty pounds, was a person of some presence. As befitted an individual of such dignity she moved slowly and commanded universal respect. Her sybaritic life style stemmed from a difficult pregnancy when she gave birth to Cutiegard her daughter, now seventeen years old, fresh coloured, comely, plump, desirable and the apple of her mother’s eye. The daughter was a maiden worthy of the dynasty into which she was born and there was no doubt that his Lordship would have liked more children. Their absence was, perhaps, the price he had to pay for the style of his tight trousers but it was too late to change his image. Possibly this was the reason that he befriended a child who, on first sight, appeared to be a local orphan.

Thus, it was that within the estate of Morphalli lived a youth whom Nature had endowed with a most sweet disposition. Those who knew him well believed his face was an open book for his fresh skin was totally unblemished and without lines for he lived a life that was free of both stress and worry. In order to ensure this carefree life every attempt had been made to protect him from the harsher realities of life. It was clear, therefore, that although the youth had solid judgement, it was joined to a most unaffected simplicity and when Lord Fred had suggested that he should be adopted and live with them he also proposed that he assume the name of ‘Candied’.

Also living within the castle was Cutiegard’s private tutor and whenever it was possible Candied would sit in the schoolroom and share her lessons. As with the other members of this most fortunate family the tutor was protected from any painful emotion that might distress the household. To emphasize this Lord Fred always referred to him as Pang-loss. Without doubt Pang-loss was a thinker, capable of articulating his perceptions to all the family. He thanked his lordship for his name and assured the whole family that throughout his life he would attempt to ensure that his personal loss of anguish would extend to all the family. After all he said, it is our culture that both separates us from the animals and perpetuates our abilities. By your actions you have shown a refinement that convinces me that we can all live without painful feelings in this best of all possible worlds

Candied listened attentively to all that Pang-loss said and committed to memory his more remarkable conclusions. Stones are made to be hewn and to construct castles, therefore my lord has a magnificent castle, for the greatest Lord in the province ought to be the best lodged. Swine were intended to be eaten; therefore we eat pork all the year around. It all made sense. So it was that when one day he heard Pang-loss state, We humans are unique among the living world in that we have evolved a culture that enables us to change nature itself so that we can use it to satisfy all our needs, he became a convert and asked him how he could enlist in such a noble cause.

What I speak of is an art, Pang-loss replied, but in order to sustain it we must study it scientifically. We must have a philosophy that enables science to be exploited so that it can be used to change our relationship with the rest of the world. I have, therefore, decided to give it a name and have concluded that it should be named technology.

Candied had no sooner decided to dedicate his life to this noble cause than he was much disturbed by an incident that was to change his life and delay the pursuit of his ambition. The problem arose one day while Cutiegard was walking through the woods around the castle. There she saw Dr Pang-loss in the bushes apparently trying out some new techniques on her mother’s chambermaid; a very pretty and docile little brunette. Since her tutor had taught Cutiegard to respect technology she breathlessly observed the strenuous efforts that had been so fortuitously laid bare before her eyes. Clearly doctor Pang-loss was using this bright summer day to demonstrate the cultural relationship between cause and effect but the effort was so great and the day so warm that it necessitated the loosening of both their clothes. Cutiegard was unsure what the cause of this behaviour was but the effects could clearly be heard around the woodland and seemed to imply that there was an urgent need for the learned doctor to improve his methodology. Subsequently, during a lull in the evening meal Cutiegard explained the problem to her mother. Rather surprisingly her mother, who had previously shown little interest in technology, started to ask a lot of penetrating questions about her tutor’s performance and the next day Pang-loss was called before the family and summarily dismissed.

Candied observed this whole disaster emerge and in despair called out to his departing tutor, Oh wise one, how can I follow in your footsteps and improve the technology that you have practised and to which I have dedicated my life?

There was a brief silence and then he heard Pang-loss’ voice as he disappeared down the path to the village. It was the advice that was to change his life.

You had better enrol at a University.

Chapter 2. Seven years later

Candied put the letter down and sat on the edge of the table. It requested an appointment for the oral defence of his doctoral examination. It sounded like someone with a pea-shooter trying to protect himself from a rubber-gloved specialist intent on palpating his prostate. But that is what the letter had said. Three years work as an undergraduate, three years working in a laboratory and reading about heat stress, three months of writing. And its value would all be judged in a couple of hours. For this is how most universities scrutinize a candidate’s ability to undertake original research. Well he wouldn’t be the first student to worry about what might happen during that fateful day and he wouldn’t be the first to decide that he should prepare himself carefully. But how? To be honest he had no idea but he decided on a two-point plan.

First, Candied intended to refresh himself by relaxing for a few days so as to recover from the concentrated effort of the past few months. Then, in phase two, he would re-read his thesis and think up some clever physico-chemical comments. This was in case Dr Power, whom he had learnt would be his main examiner, exercised his well-known propensity for asking obscure questions about the relationship of biology to the physical sciences.

The plan, however, was not to be. Late on Friday afternoon his somewhat eccentric Aunt Ethel phoned to announce that her prize boar, Egremont had won the silver medal at the Windsor Agricultural Show. Unfortunately, while in the winner’s enclosure he had taken an instant attraction to the gold medallist sow and in the intervening attempts to evade the judges and mount her, the boar had suffered a heart attack. The stewards were faced with an awkward problem and had to convene a special meeting. The precedent-setting questions were whether Egremont should be disbarred for engaging in an act of public obscenity, or whether the silver medal could be awarded posthumously. It had apparently been a stormy meeting hinging upon what Egremont would be remembered for if any award was made. Aunt Ethel explained that she was going to engage legal council if her appeal was unsuccessful but she wanted Candied to collect the earthly remains of Egremont that evening and transport him to her farm. He was to be buried among the graves of the sows that had had similar heart attacks on seeing him approach. It’s something to do with the breed she said, but Candied fancied it was more to do with the breeding.

Whatever happens Ethel insisted, he must be buried within 24 hours. After that he could explode.

Unrequited passion? he enquired.

Intestinal gases she replied. Candied surmised that Egremont was probably heavier than he was and that transporting a potential bomb was not a job for an innocent lab-worker so he phoned the local employment agency to ask if they could help him. There was no way he could move Egremont himself but he felt that if someone could help him once he got to Windsor the two of them might somehow be able to ship Egremont from the showground to his final resting place on Ethel’s farm. The plan was diffuse but it was in the middle of the three days when Candied was resting his neurones. With the assurance that the agency would have someone meet him at the show ground he drove his aged Ford through the countryside to the entrance of the showground trying to think of a good reason why Security should let him onto the site. These concerns were justified when the guard insisted it was too late to enter the show and that he could not remove any pigs, dead or alive, without a member’s pass. The officer made some dark comments about pork sausages being sold in earlier years as aphrodisiacs and reminded Candied that this was one of the Royal Agricultural Shows. He explained that Ethel was a member in good standing with the organisers but that she had been called to a special meeting with the stewards to decide if ‘what was viewed was what was lewd’. Suitably confused Security reluctantly allowed Candied into the compound but solemnly took the car’s registration number. As he parked the car by the steward’s enclosure he was alarmed to see what he took to be a beggar coming towards him from some adjoining bushes. His face was covered in scabs, his eyes were sunk into his head and when he tried to speak it was apparent that his teeth were as black as a cloak. Snuffling and coughing most violently he attempted to moisten his lips but only succeeded in knocking one of his rotting teeth onto the grass.

Stand back Candied shouted. I’m a technologist and have both a rape alarm and a mobile phone.

Alas, said the wretch I am also a technologist and I have nothing. Don’t you recognize your dear friend Pang-loss?

What do I hear? Is it you, my dear master? Candied queried for he recognized little of his old friend in the manifestation that stood before him. What dreadful disaster has befallen you?

Oh Lord, cried Pang-loss Let me rest awhile and I will explain. Stay there for a moment, he replied and left him sitting in the shade of a tree while he went to search for his aunt.

At seven o’clock in the evening the show ground was virtually empty. Only the refreshment tent was populated as the prize-winners downed their gin and tonics prior to the final evening’s dinner. In the corner, dressed in brown tweed, sat Ethel. One of her square fists was clutching a pint mug of beer while the other gripped the top of a well-polished stick. She was recounting some earthy pig story to a group of shocked but admiring farmers. She beckoned her nephew over.

They want a damn blood test on Egremont.... think ‘e was under the influence of drugs when he went for that Berkshire seductress. Whart cheek. I’m not having a biopsy on one of my boars. That’s ‘ow he was and thart’s ‘ow he will remain. Her lazy Oxfordshire dialect rolled in defiance. That’s why I called him Eagermount she intoned.

You mean Egremont? her nephew ventured.

No she snarled. It was only those over-educated stewards that changed his name when they registered him in the first place. See he gets a good burial. and with a flushed look on her overexposed face she turned to further shock the pig breeders of S.E. England. We’ll get nothing else out of her thought Candied and returned to Pang-loss outside the tent. It was obvious that Egremont was too big to have been moved far and that he must still be near the exhibition ring. And that indeed was where they found him, carefully covered with a white sheet, with the Steward’s labels tied on him and with a leer still covering his earthy face.

It is wonderful how our common cultural interests have brought us together again, said Pang-loss as he began to recover from the shock of their reunion. This is indeed the best possible of all possible worlds when such simple interests can provide for such a strong bond.

Candied had to agree that they were indeed fortunate to be reunited in this way but they had a more pressing problem. He instructed Pang-loss to devise a way of loading Egremont into the car while he set off to retrieve his vehicle. When he returned Pang-loss explained his solution to the problem.

Candied would attach a towrope to the car while Pang-loss dragged the mortal remains of Egremont down to the river frontage where there was a slope for launching the boats and lots of tackle for loading supplies. Using it to get Egremont into the boot of the car, however, was going to be a major task. Candied took a few sips from the hipflask that he had brought with him while Pang-loss assimilated the problem and devised his plan. The towrope would be passed from the car bumper around a capstan and onto a block and tackle on the deck of one of the nearby boats. All that was then required was to reattach it to Egremont’s shroud on the bank, start the car and raise the corpse so that it could be swung into the car.

Nothing can go wrong, Pang-loss commented. I haven’t done the sums but the mechanical advantage and the triangle of forces are all in our favour. I’m not an experimentalist but my whole purpose in life is to harness the forces of Nature to man’s need and this will be a glorious demonstration of the way that we must all think in the future. The capstan won’t be powered so we will have to crank it by hand and there’s a fishing knife on the deck if anything goes wrong.

Reluctantly Candied got in the car and revved up the engine. He looked over his shoulder at Pang-loss silhouetted on the deck of the boat. While thus distracted he mistakenly threw the car into second gear and shot along the riverfront. Suddenly the rope tightened, Egremont’s shackled legs rose in the air and he headed for the stern of the boat which began to tilt and sink deeper into the water. There was the flash of a knife blade; the splash of a body entering the river Thames and suddenly Candied found himself in a liberated car that careering at speed along the towpath of the riverbank. In panic he threw the gearshift into reverse and shot up the neatly lawned bank leaving two furrows worthy of an entry in the ploughing contest. Pang-loss came hobbling up to the bespattered car and as they recovered Candied took stock of the situation. Pang-loss’ quick action with the knife had imperilled the car, probably saved the boat from sinking and cast Egremont into a watery grave. On reflection it appeared that there had probably been too many variables in that exercise but there was no way they could retrieve the situation to try again. So they wiped the mud off the back window of the car and departed.

They had no trouble leaving the agricultural show and convincing Security that they were not exiting the ground with stolen goods. As they departed Candied noticed a nearby exhibitor who was packing away his goods.

Do you want to sell any of your potatoes? he enquired.

You can have a couple of sacks of Desirees, was the reply. Save me taking them all the way back home.

And so it was decided and as the two old friends drove towards Aunt Ethel’s farm Candied asked Pang-loss what had reduced him to such a miserable condition.

Alas he replied, it was love. Love the comfort of the human species; love, the preserver of the universe; love the ache that drives us all. You must remember Pacquette, that pretty damsel who waited on our noble Baroness, the maiden in whose arms I tasted the pleasures of Paradise and who also induced in me the torments with which you now see me devoured. Alas she was infected with an ailment and perhaps has since died of it. She received the illness during coitus with an assistant cook, who got it from a sailor, who met it in San Francisco where it arrived from Africa as a gift from our nearest relative the chimpanzee.

O sage Pang-loss. You have AIDS. Is not the devil behind this?

No you are wrong. There are no aids available to me and even if there were I should have used them before now. They are prophylactics and I have no money to buy them

Not aids. A.I.D.S.

Artificial Insemination by Donors? No I’ve never done that, replied Pang-loss.

A.I.D.S. It stands for Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. It’s caused by a virus derived from the chimpanzee

Then why don’t you say it’s an immune deficiency disease instead of talking in abbreviated riddles? Have you learnt nothing at university about the need for precision when we express ourselves? Can you not see what nonsense these acronyms make of our whole culture? The world is full of conflicts caused by misunderstandings and you go around confusing our language, talking in jargon so that the average man cannot understand you. What divides mankind is not what one person knows but rather what he conceals from others. It is not knowledge that is the basis of power but rather secrecy.

Oh Pang-loss, Candied cried. It is wondrous to hear your words of wisdom again. Please absolve me for my arrogance. I’m sorry. I can see you are in great distress. Please forgive me. It is a terrible disease and must strike at the very heart of your philosophy that we live in the best possible of all possible worlds.

Pang-loss looked at him through his bloodshot eyes.

Not at all, replied the great man. If I have caught the disease because the chimpanzee is our closest relative it is a great opportunity. We will be able to test our drugs upon him to find a cure. If chimpanzees were not related to us what would we do to cure this terrible blight? Clearly in this best possible world the chimpanzee performs a vital function in enabling us to find a cure. Have you forgotten? We must exploit the natural world to satisfy our needs for that is the basis of all our technologies.

They had arrived at Ethel’s farm. It was night time and Candied took a spade and buried the sack of Desiree potatoes next to the sows in the orchard. When they left the plot it looked neat and realistic and the contents of the grave seemed appropriate. Pang-loss advised his pupil that he had to go back to the agency to sign off on the job.

And so Candied ended the day by driving his old friend back and advising him to check into the local hospital in the morning.

Over the next few days Candied began to concern himself more with his impending examination. Suddenly Dr Power began to assume a larger profile and not just in his consciousness. At the remarkably young age of 38, Dr. Power had been made Warden of one of the Oxford colleges. He was, of course, an extremely bright, hard-working and conscientious scientist with just the right background for this launch into the establishment. He himself had been a student at Oxford and had earned a Blue for his abilities at rowing. It was this talent that had suddenly cast him into the public gaze and brought him his current notoriety. As a past oarsman he had been asked by the president of the rowing club to advise them on tactics for winning the Oxford and Cambridge boat race. In the ensuing discussions he had explained that the power to weight ratio of the crew was one component. This needed to be optimised although there was some additional component of skill that would make the selection difficult. As he explained to all who would listen it was a complicated scenario for any scientist to resolve. Thus the weight of the crew was balanced by the displacement of water by the boat but the more the boat sank into the water the greater would be its resistance to motion. These problems were much simpler for the selection of the coxswain. She, and he smiled at the liberal impression he was creating at top table, required little power to steer the boat so she could be as small as possible. Indeed it seemed obvious to him that the University should recruit the lightest young lady possible.

In the ensuing discussions with the University Public Relations officer, the ‘Blue stocking’ Endowment Fund and the Overseas Development Secretary, Dr Power eventually succeeded in convincing the University that it should offer a one year Fellowship to any height-challenged overseas female who might otherwise not be able to get to Oxford.

Ms Gnohunga sat in the stern of the Oxford boat unsure as to why she had been selected from her African village to study for a Diploma in Anthropology and ended up as the coxswain of a rowing eight. She thought about the stories her grandfather had told her of how her ancestors had killed the Oxford anthropologist Piggy Wilson when he discovered their pigmy village. She remembered the exotic descriptions that went around the campfire. She recalled the taste of a man marinated for 20 years in the best claret that the best endowed College could afford. Looking down the boat she smiled at the New

Zealand stroke sitting immediately in front of her. Such a physique..and they spoke very highly of the flavour of those New World wines.

Her gastronomic thoughts were suddenly interrupted by some turmoil from the middle of the river. The umpire was shouting across