Unknowing

On the distant planet Golf, at the top of the mountain of Hinga Lum Dura, the sage was having second thoughts. As a result he climbed down the mountain and went to the arid plain of Dinga Punalda where an even wiser sage lived under a piece of plywood wedged into a crack in a rock.

The sage of Hinga Lum Dura performed the necessary ritual and then coughed discreetly in order to wake the wiser sage. The sage of Dinga Punalda opened one eye, then the other and nodded once to acknowledge the presence of his visitor. Casting himself on his face in the dust, the sage of Hinga Lum Dura explained the advice he had given and the person he had recommended to the scientists.

The wiser sage was silent for a whole week while the sage of Hinga Lum Dura waited in the dust. Then he asked, “Are you keeping anything from me?”

The sage of Hinga Lum Dura was so startled that he rose on all fours and looked directly at the wiser sage. “By the spangled gown of Kameldeergard!” He exclaimed. “I scratched both armpits at the same time.”

The wiser sage looked at the sage of Hinga Lum Dura with mild rebuke. He said no more, for he knew the sage of Hinga Lum Dura had realized his folly.

“Oh master,” said the lesser to the greater, “I ought to have refrained from scratching both armpits simultaneously. Will you tell me what might have been?”

The greater gave the lesser a stern look and condescended to give the slightest shake of his head. Of course not, you son of a jackal, the sage of Hinga Lum Dura thought, as he prostrated himself in the dust and performed the necessary ritual before departing with all due humility.

Discouraged at his failure, the sage of Hinga Lum Dura decided to get drunk. Coming out of the liquor store he met with Drs Spigot, Crinkle and Principle. They eyed each other awkwardly: the sage wondering if they would loose all confidence in him, they wondering what kind of sage came out of liquor stores laden down with goods.

“Um, I need to talk to you boys. I’m afraid I gave you bad advice,” the sage said, deciding it was time to come clean. And then, deciding that coming clean altogether might not serve his best interests, added, “I was just buying some presents for . . . for my boss. I mean, I need some of this stuff for divination, but some of it is a present for my boss. . . . for his divination, you see.”

Rats, the sage of Hinga Lum Dura said to himself, that was stupid; I’ve lost all my confidence just because I forgot to follow the right procedure. He decided to amend his ways altogether and dumped the liquor in a trash can and then beckoned the three men to follow him. He gave them no further explanation but headed back out of the city and up the mountain. They exchanged glances: Spigot of sheer amazement, Crinkle of confusion, and Principle a supercilious knowing leer. They followed the sage back up to his cave.

“I followed the wrong procedure,” the sage confessed to the three scientists. “I should have scratched only one armpit at a time rather than scratching both. As a result, I was more confident of Felonious Assault than I ought to have been.”

Dr. Spigot gasped. “So he’s not reliable?”

The wind howled around the summit of Hinga Lum Dura as the scientists watched the abject sage. He shook his head.

“No, I’m afraid your invention may have fallen into the wrong hands. By the camel! There’s no telling whether he’ll tinker with it or not.”

“You mean he won’t just use it?” Dr. Crinkle asked, aghast.

“He’ll get into the inner workings and change the settings,” Dr. Principle said. “I doubt Felonious Assault will have read about it in the J.P.S.Umug, but if he does, he’ll find out he can change the settings.”

“That will completely ruin the experiment!” Dr. Spigot said.

“Well, who cares?” Dr. Principle replied. “It will still show the machine works.”

“What could he change the settings to do?” The sage now asked the three scientists.

They exchanged glances and shrugged. “Anything he likes.”