Post by Kyle Kirkland on Apr 15, 2014 0:56:32 GMT -8
Over the years Kyle Kirkland had been informed by several reliable persons that he had no instinct for self-preservation. If those people could see him now they’d have undeniable proof that this statement was true. Moreover, all of them would be telling him what a stupid idea this was, and how would he ever be able to look at his fellow countrymen in the eye ever again? A few of the braver ones might try and stop him, even thought that would be placing themselves at risk of losing face. And what was this risky and desperate idea that Kyle had?
He was going to see a Government person.
One of the greatest skills of Australians had ever developed was the ability to avoid persons of political affiliation. This avoidance strategy went as far as building a whole new city for the politicians to live in so the rest of the country could avoid them more effectively. The instinct was so strong, that when the first federal election occurred in 1901 no one had turned up to vote. And it was this very instinct that Kyle was battling when he walked into the Heart of Westminster. There were only two things in this world that would make Kyle take such drastic action. One was his cousin and the other was his patients, in this case it was the latter.
He knew animal trafficking to be a problem. In his student days he had been a part of some colourful demonstrations against the practice. Now he was taking part in the conviction of these money hungry tradesman, through his work with the SIS. His job was identify and catalogue all the animal they’d seized in a raid and get them well enough to be returned to their home counties, those that were too far gone to be treated were to be put down with as little pain as possible.
Many of the creatures they rescued had been in a bad way. The bastard of a keeper had not provided heat for the reptiles or a cooling system for the mammals. The cages had been too small, the water stale, the young separated from their mothers… but the Burmese Python in his arms was by far the worst off. At some point during her imprisonment she had been burnt on her left side, most reptiles respond to this by shedding the damaged layer of scales; but for some reason this one hadn’t. Nor had she reacted when a stranger’s hand had picked her up and placed her in the carrier. For what was supposedly a wild animal this was a very bad sign. Kyle knew himself to be a half decent vet, but in this case he was going to need some advice. This lady python was going to need specialist care and he was not a specialist. Which was why he was on his was to meet with the Phoenix herself.
Kim-Ly Thi Nguyen’s reputation preceded her. Kyle had been told that she was harsh, fiercely intelligent and tougher than the digging claws of a wombat. But more importantly she was from Vietnam, there were whispers that she had spent her childhood in a village, a farming one, with rice-paddies and other wet places where Burmese pythons liked to hang out. It was on these whispers that Kyle was taking the gamble that she would know something that he could not find for himself in a journal. He knew from his own childhood that there was more to be learnt from the outdoors than what books could tell you. Anything that Kim-ly could tell him might just give him the edge to save this snake’s life.
To his credit Kyle remembered to knock on the door before he tumbled into the Justice Department, it was the waiting for an answer part that he forgot about. “G’da-err hello” He greeted to the office in general and continued speaking without pause for breath “Has anyone seen Ms Kim-Ly Something? Tell her I’ve got a Burmese Python here who’s really crook and I’d appreciate it if she had any grouse knowledge about them and umm, and I’ve brought flowers. Red ones.”
The red flowers had been an afterthought. Kyle did not have the faintest idea on how to visit a politician without getting his head bitten off, but flowers seemed like a good start. He’d had some experience with South East Asians before and knew that they generally liked the colour red. Ergo red flowers. No he did not know what sort of flowers they were, what did he look like, a flippin pansy?
He was going to see a Government person.
One of the greatest skills of Australians had ever developed was the ability to avoid persons of political affiliation. This avoidance strategy went as far as building a whole new city for the politicians to live in so the rest of the country could avoid them more effectively. The instinct was so strong, that when the first federal election occurred in 1901 no one had turned up to vote. And it was this very instinct that Kyle was battling when he walked into the Heart of Westminster. There were only two things in this world that would make Kyle take such drastic action. One was his cousin and the other was his patients, in this case it was the latter.
He knew animal trafficking to be a problem. In his student days he had been a part of some colourful demonstrations against the practice. Now he was taking part in the conviction of these money hungry tradesman, through his work with the SIS. His job was identify and catalogue all the animal they’d seized in a raid and get them well enough to be returned to their home counties, those that were too far gone to be treated were to be put down with as little pain as possible.
Many of the creatures they rescued had been in a bad way. The bastard of a keeper had not provided heat for the reptiles or a cooling system for the mammals. The cages had been too small, the water stale, the young separated from their mothers… but the Burmese Python in his arms was by far the worst off. At some point during her imprisonment she had been burnt on her left side, most reptiles respond to this by shedding the damaged layer of scales; but for some reason this one hadn’t. Nor had she reacted when a stranger’s hand had picked her up and placed her in the carrier. For what was supposedly a wild animal this was a very bad sign. Kyle knew himself to be a half decent vet, but in this case he was going to need some advice. This lady python was going to need specialist care and he was not a specialist. Which was why he was on his was to meet with the Phoenix herself.
Kim-Ly Thi Nguyen’s reputation preceded her. Kyle had been told that she was harsh, fiercely intelligent and tougher than the digging claws of a wombat. But more importantly she was from Vietnam, there were whispers that she had spent her childhood in a village, a farming one, with rice-paddies and other wet places where Burmese pythons liked to hang out. It was on these whispers that Kyle was taking the gamble that she would know something that he could not find for himself in a journal. He knew from his own childhood that there was more to be learnt from the outdoors than what books could tell you. Anything that Kim-ly could tell him might just give him the edge to save this snake’s life.
To his credit Kyle remembered to knock on the door before he tumbled into the Justice Department, it was the waiting for an answer part that he forgot about. “G’da-err hello” He greeted to the office in general and continued speaking without pause for breath “Has anyone seen Ms Kim-Ly Something? Tell her I’ve got a Burmese Python here who’s really crook and I’d appreciate it if she had any grouse knowledge about them and umm, and I’ve brought flowers. Red ones.”
The red flowers had been an afterthought. Kyle did not have the faintest idea on how to visit a politician without getting his head bitten off, but flowers seemed like a good start. He’d had some experience with South East Asians before and knew that they generally liked the colour red. Ergo red flowers. No he did not know what sort of flowers they were, what did he look like, a flippin pansy?
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