Three Monkeys

and alluring. “This is certainly a hard one, Kieran.”

Kieran smiled wryly.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Well you’ve some of the most brilliant archaeological and historical minds on the planet working right here, Baron. Can’t we consult them?”

“Of course we can, love,” came the grateful reply, “but a Romanesque Trireme is an ancient warship with three banks of oars. Even though it was very generous of the Allard Pierson museum to donate us that full working model, we simply wouldn’t have sufficient fit volunteers available to row her… and before you ask, the scroll is very specific about historical accuracy.”

“So we can’t shove an engine in,” added Kieran teasingly.

“No, love, we can’t shove anything in.”

“Perhaps later,” added Kieran, coquettishly.

As the two of them relaxed with an appropriate sundowner on the sensual upholstery, the Baron smiled fiendishly. “Of course! Why didn't I think of that sooner?”

“What is it, my four-wheeled fantasy-man?” asked a doe-eyed Kieran.

“Lesbians,” said the Baron.

“Pardon?”

“Lesbians,” he repeated, brightly, “There’s nothing like a lesbian for pulling power!”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” teased Kieran, deliberately misunderstanding.

“No, not like that silly!” smiled the Baron, nuzzling Kieran’s neck, “you remember the captain of that Dutch Frigate that’s here to help us patrol Ys?” 183