Adrian Tchaikovsky - The Private Life of Elder Things

Donald Toomey, yes. We were always good friends, which is surprisinggiven what you and I both now know. I remember thinking when I first saw him well, theres a man whos not going to win hearts and minds just by smiling atthem. Yet he had a following, because he was keen, and topical, and he knewwhat he was talking about. A lot of young and dedicated people had time forDonald back then, despite his personal disadvantages.

Oh, it was a conference, where I first saw him. I knewthe name from somewhere, but our specialities were different enough that Idont think I'd read anything of his, and vice versa. Seeing him up on thepodium was an education: stooped, gangling, with a teenagers bad skin carriedover into his mid-twenties. Still, he had made his mark by action, not bylooking pretty, and not by toeing the line either. I hadnt really given a damnabout sustainable fishing or all that sort of thing until I heard him talkabout it. He had an energy about him, no mistake. I find that most of the timethe people with that kind of drive to them know pitifully little about thesubject, and those in the know are too jaded to get very excited, but Donaldhad the facts and the fervour, all in one package. You barely noticed thephysical deficiencies, even the eyes.

I very nearly failed to talk to him because of that.Its small of me, but its hard to know where to focus when the mans sowall-eyed that hes looking two directions at once. But we got to talking heon marine conservation, me on my beloved ichthyological taxonomy and let metell you, he was one of the few people who would sit still for it, and we keptin touch after the conference, simple as that.

Oh, I found out soon that his reputation as atroublemaker was more than just hot air. Something of an activist, in hisyouth, chaining himself to this and sabotaging that. It meant that no seriousresearch post would touch him. And yes, I had my own doctorate and adecent-sized grant, and because my life was very safe and slightly dull I didindulge in some vicarious rebellion and get him an assistants place under mefor a year, just to kick-start his CV. So you might say I played some smallrole in what was to come.

My demands on his time were small enough, and hedevoted the rest to his own marine ecology research, with my blessing. Ithelped him build his professional reputation and start angling, if you'llforgive the pun, for another position. He gave a few talks while he was withme, too all very green stuff, and this was just when green was becomingfashionable all about responsible use of resources, sharing the planet, youknow. Quite the darling of the smart set in those days, appearancesnotwithstanding.

The year after, he secured that place in Hull, doingwhat he wanted. Sad to see him go, really, but I knew that taxonomy was neverhis interest. Still, he didnt forget that he'd got his start from me. Everyfour or five months would come a package and a letter in his somewhat unrulyhandwriting always the personal touches and I would get the pleasure ofsome new specimen for my collection.

Yes, my pride and joy, as you see all around. Partlyits my own acquisitive nature, partly its Donalds gifts, but as you can see,I've pretty much walled my office in glass cases and jars now, every specimenremarkable in its own way. If only you were in the field, you'd be all overthem with magnifying glasses and reference books. I guarantee there are fishhere which or perhaps youre not really interested. Such a pity, but Isuppose that ichthyology is not one of the areas you pride yourself in being sowell informed about. But surely, this juvenile Xiphactinus must at leastexcite no, nothing? Thats an ugly fish, you say. Ah well.

Where were we? Well yes, it must have been the bestpart of a decade then or longer, I think and Donald and I would write toone another, he in his scrawl, me with my dictation and my secretary; believeme, my own handwriting isnt fit for a five year-old. Even later on, Donaldswas better.

Yes, I have the letters still. If you go through them,you can see the change, but it was only the calligraphy that suffered. Once Icould untangle it, the content was as educated and incisive as ever; more,perhaps.

And then I went to visit him, as you know. I was inHull to meet with a potential co-author, and I thought, why not drop in onDonald? All very short notice and unannounced, but I was sure he would be happyto grab a sandwich and talk about old times.

Well, you can imagine my confusion when they told mehe was gone. Missing for some time, actually. His colleagues at the institutewere cagey, but I had the distinct feeling that they thought he might have, youknow, topped himself, just walked into the sea. I did a little digging, and itwas plain that, before that, his relationships with his peers had degenerated.He had become erratic, very conscious of his awkward appearance, seldom seen inpublic. I wondered at the time if there was not some sort of brokenrelationship or the like at the heart of it. Everyone was agreed, though, thatmy friend Donald had dropped off the map three years before.

I had received five letters from him, complete withspecimens, since his supposed disappearance. I had written to him, too. Theaddress was just a PO Box, its true, but that had always been the way, becausehe did tend to move around a bit. Obviously I dropped him a line straight offasking what he was playing at, and whether I could help.

Of course, that was when I first had a visit from yourlot. All those questions, all that suspicion. Well, obviously I thought thatDonald had gone back to his old activist ways, perhaps with a more radicalagenda than before. He always did care so much about the future of the oceans.He got so angry about the pollution, the overfishing, well You'll forgive meif I wasnt very sympathetic to your interrogation, back then.

I'm sure you've kept tabs on me since, and thoseletters I got started looking as though someone had opened them before me. Nodoubt you examined the specimens he sent, too, and just saw, oh, another uglyfish. Or perhaps you have a tame ichthyologist on hand, and I'd have liked tohave seen his face. Ever since Donald left his job, his gifts have been moreand more fascinating, harder and harder to classify. I've stopped trying to publishabout them. A mans professional reputation can only take so much eccentricity.Now they're just for me, to look at, to gloat over. Its enough.

And you'll know I tend to travel more these days seaside resorts and old port towns my speciality, the dingier the better,rubbing shoulders with maritime folk off foreign ships, hanging out at thedocks like, hmm, a woman of negotiable affection. Yes, of course I had wordfrom Donald that way, information he didnt want to send by the old,compromised channels. And of course I lied to your colleagues when they askedabout it. A mans got to stick up for his friends, hasnt he?