Since the Wavoni capital had been besieged and sacked the year before, the Wavoni Spiritual Triumvirate had directed the war effort from beneath the waves—in an underwater caver n on Shebang’s second largest continent. It was there that the diplomatic craft dropped off Henry and Soufflé—motoring along in an aquarium on wheels—after nearly being blown out of the water twice by Particularian torpedoes. Damp but d etermined, the pair were half-beaten, half-dragged, and half-escorted to the meeting chamber of the Wavoni Triumvirate. It was a sparkling, oval-shaped room completely filled with light—and three large, grumpy-looking Shebangis.
The grumpiest-looking one spoke first, with Soufflé doing translations on the fly. “Horrible Particularian defiler of truths!! Why should we bargain with thos e whose foolishness in the face of fact is beyond all reason?”
The medium-grumpy one went next. “Light’s wave nature is beyond all disbelief! We should leave you both tied up under the blaze of Light in the Really-Really-Hot-Des ert-of-Death-and-Bleached-Oxen-Skulls so that you might contemplate your blasphemy as scorpion-bats devour you.”
The not-so-grumpy-at-all one was last. “But the Really-Really-Hot-Desert-of-Death-and-Bleached-Oxen-Skulls was developed into a putt-putt golfing complex, and the scorpion -bats are in charge of getting the balls out of the castle on hole #17. They always get stuck there because people shove their chewing gum in the little windows. It’s pretty gross. Anyway, what are you here for?”
Henry was relieved that there was at least one Shebangi upon whom his diplomatic tact might prove effective. He began with the formal Wavoni greeting—a wave—and the n said, “Honored members of the Triumvirate, I come only to help you follow the course that will allow Wondrous Light to shine brightest on all of Shebang. Please, treat me as a wind-blown seed who has landed here to grow in the Light of your wisdom . Tell me, then, why you so persistently insist on Light being a wave, and nothing but?”
All three seemed to enjoy that little speech.
Medium-grumpy immediately started rattling off the fundamentals of Wavoni doctrine. “Waves—whether of water, or sound, or of Wondrous Light, share the characteristics of r ectilinear propagation—”
“That means they go in a straight line,” Soufflé added to the translation.
“Reflection”
“That’s when they bounce off a surface, like a mirror,” informed Soufflé.
“And refraction—”
“That’s when a wave bends as it passes between two different substances,” Soufflé added once more.
Now the most-grumpy, with great flourish, contributed his share, “And don’t forget interference and diffraction, which those ignorant Particularians don’t even try to exp lain with their trifling theory.”
Well, thought Henry, at least he had some idea of where to start. The Wavonis would never bargain if they refused to compromise on their wave theory. He would try to attack...
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