The Archfornicator of Canterbury

32 Chasing the humpless camel

One of the buildings that suffered superficial damage when the Cathedral blew up was the Royal University Library. It was an impressive stone structure on the Northern edge of King Square that would probably be featured in the next printing of souvenir postcards now that there was no longer much point in having pictures of the Cathedral. Inside the library were five floors full of books, manuscripts, maps, drawings and other printed matter that had at one time or another played their part in the curriculum of this or that study program at the Royal University.

The main entrance hall of the library was dimly lit and spanned three floors. In the middle of the floor, a glass-topped mahogany display case contained the rarest book in the collection. It was a first edition of "Fungi of Bulimia and Neighbouring Countries", written and illustrated by the Swedish botanist Carl von Linné during his field trip to Bulimia in the 16th Century. It was said that von Linné had been so fascinated by the mushrooms he found that he spent five years in Bulimia instead of the intended three days, roaming through the yak pastures in search of yet another species unknown to science.

The book was open at the spread featuring Psilocybe vittuanus, a mushroom species endemic to Bulimia that had long since become extinct. Von Linné's watercolour illustration, in which the characteristic concave cap and crimson gills were quite visible, was at once both delicate and magnificent. According to the description, the spores of the species had to pass through the digestive tract of a humpless camel before they could germinate. As there were no more humpless camels, the last breeding pair having been barbecued at King Osvald II's coronation reception, the mushroom hadn't been spotted in Bulimia for decades.

Professor Hans Drøvel was sitting in the Library reading room, oblivious to the outside world, reading the latest issue of the Journal of Gastronomical Mycology. He had been at the Royal University for most of his life, starting as a lowly undergraduate, and had now held the Biology chair for over 40 years. Sometimes, after he'd had his customary glass of sherry before retiring for the night, he reflected on his life and on what might have been, had he not missed the Medical School entrance exam by two days because he was held up by a game of whist. He had no regrets, though. Biology was his life, and one that he enjoyed quite a bit.

Professor Drøvel was no stranger to P. vittuanus. His doctoral thesis had been titled "On the Metasymbiotic Aspects of Macrauchenia platydorsa Digestion". In the chapter on fungal interactions, he elaborated on von Linné's description and gave a thorough explanation as to why the spores could not germinate in any other conditions. He also postulated a then-controversial theory that if the spores were preserved in pure alcohol, they would remain viable forever, or at least a good thousand years or so. He received the highest possible marks for his thesis, and did not face any significant competition when his predecessor was decapitated in a bizarre gardening accident and the Biology chair became vacant.

On the surface, the professor was a gentle old man who, like many scientists, at cocktail parties was sometimes prone to make those in his company fall asleep with his overly detailed stories about something utterly fascinating he'd come across in his research, but otherwise was quite harmless and probably wouldn't hurt a fly.

Few knew, however, that Professor Drøvel had a secret.