Dr. Malhari takes a moment to relax

Dr Malhari sits on his parlor chair, admiring a whiff of pipesmoke emanating from his mouth. The stuffed animal heads adoring the wall are somehow not enough. There is a blunderbuss mounted their too, and a silver sword. Soon, the cells under his microscope will have finished dividing, and he will rebuild the dinosaur, but with superhuman intelligence. This creation will of course be powered by silica crystals and an obscure form of gravity wave distortion. His bare feet feel good against the zebra skin rug, and he thinks of all the wonderful memories he has. So many grand adventures. So much danger. So much risk. So much reward. Martian slave girls in a silk market. The beast he fought under the dungeons of Angband. The black mermaid, with rivulets of ebony cascading as tresses, each one capped by a venomous snake. The devil. The blue robots, and their desire to eat perfection. Dr. Malhari had seen the destruction of three rocket ships. It was time for a glass of Madera, a smoke, and a look at the old trophies.