Ecce and Old Earth (23 page)

Wayness tucked the lists back into her shoulder-bag and considered Lefaun Zadoury, who met her gaze with same imperturbable expression as before.

"I must get back to my work," said Wayness.

“As you like." Lefaun Zadoury rose to his feet. “There were no extras. You need pay thirty pence only.”

Wayness darted him a quick glance but made no comment and placed three coins on the table. The two returned to the workroom. Lefaun Zadoury made a grand gesture toward the table. “Notice, if you please! It is as I said! Nothing has been disturbed!"

"I am relieved," said Wayness. '"If anything were amiss I might be held responsible and severely punished."

Lefaun Zadoury pursed his lips. "Such incidents are rare."

"I am lucky to have the benefit of such expert advice,” said Wayness. “Your knowledge would seem to be comprehensive.”

Lefaun Zadoury said judiciously, “At the very least I try to function with professional competence.”

“Would you know how and when the Museum acquired this material?”

Lefaun Zadoury blew out his cheeks. “No. But I can find out in short order, if you are interested."

"I am interested.”

“Just a moment, then.” Lefaun Zadoury stalked into the adjoining room and seated himself in one of the alcoves before an information screen. He worked the controls, studied the screen, gave his head a jerk, signalizing the flux of information from the screen into his brain. Wayness watched from the doorway.

Lefaun Zadoury rose to his feet and returned to the workroom. Carefully he closed the door, and stood as if mulling over a set of complicated ideas. Wayness waited patiently. At last she asked: “What did you learn?”

"Nothing.”

Wayness tried to keep her voice from becoming a squeak. “Nothing?”

“I learned that the information is not available, if that that suits you better. We are dealing with the gift of an anonymous donor.”

“Ridiculous!" Wayness muttered. “I can't understand such secrecy!”

“Neither the Funusti Museum nor the universe at large is an inherently logical place," said Lefaun Zadoury. “Are you finished with this material?"

"Not yet. I must think."

Lefaun Zadoury remained in the room, standing half expectantly, or so it seemed to Wayness. What could he be waiting for? She put a tentative question: “Is the information known to anyone at the museum?”

Lefaun Zadoury raised his eyes toward the ceiling. “I should think that one of the poobahs in the GEP – that's the Office of Gifts, Endowments and Procurements – keeps a compendium of such information. It would be highly inaccessible, of course.”

Wayness said thoughtfully: “I myself might offer a small endowment to the museum if I were supplied this trilling bit of information.”

“Even impossible things are thinkable,” said Lefaun Zadoury. “But now we are dealing with persons in high places, and they hardly turn their heads to spit for less than a thousand sols.”

“Ha! That is totally out of the question. I can endow a sum of ten sols, with another ten to you for your expert counsel: twenty sols in all.”

Lefaun threw up his hands in shock. “How could I mention a sum so paltry to the exalted personage whom I would need to consult?"

"It seems very simple to me. Point out that a few words and ten sols is better than dead silence and no sols."

“True," said Lefaun. “Well then, so be it. In view of our friendly association I will risk making a fool of myself. Excuse me for a few minutes." Lefaun Zadoury departed the room. Wayness went to the table and surveyed the three cases. Biographies of thirty-five early Naturalists, genealogical data, and documents relating to the construction of palatial new headquarters for the Society: nothing she cared to re-examine at the moment.

Ten minutes passed. Lefaun Zadoury returned to the room. For a few seconds he stood appraising Wayness with a faint smile which she found unsettling. Finally she told herself: “In anyone else that would be considered a saturnine, or cynical, leer, but I believe that Lefaun Zadoury is merely trying to present an affable, debonair image. “Aloud, she said: “You seem pleased. What did you learn?"

Lefaun came forward. “I was right, of course. The official sneered at me and asked if I had been born yesterday. I told him no, that I was trying to oblige a charming young lady, and with that he relented, though he insisted that the entire endowment, all twenty sols, be paid into his control. Naturally, I had no choice but to agree. Perhaps you will wish to make an adjustment.” He waited, but Wayness said nothing. Lefaun’s smile slowly drained away, leaving his face as morose as ever. "In any case, you must now pay the stipulated sum over to me.”

Wayness stared in wonder. “Really, Mr. Zadoury! That is not the way things are done!”

“How so?”

“When you bring me the information, and I verify it, then I will make the endowment.”

“Bah!” grumbled Lefaun. “What is the use of so much rigmarole?”

“Simple enough. Once money is paid over, no one is ever in any hurry, and meanwhile I sit waiting in the Mazeppa Hotel for days on end.”

“Hmf,“ sniffed Lefaun. “Why is the name of this donor so important?”

Wayness patiently explained. “In order to renew the Society, we need the help of old Naturalist families.”

“Are these names not listed among Society records?"

“The records were damaged some time ago by an irresponsible Secretary. Now we are trying to repair the damage.”

“To destroy records is a crime against reason! Luckily, everything that has been written once has probably been written ten times.”

“I hope so," said Wayness. “It is why I am here."

Lefaun pondered for a moment, then spoke, somewhat abruptly: “The situation is more complicated than you might think. The information will not reach me until this evening.”

"That is inconvenient.”

"Not necessarily!” declared Lefaun in a sudden burst of enthusiasm. “I will take advantage of the occasion to show you the sights and sounds of Old Kiev! It will be an important evening, which you will never forget!”

Wayness, feeling the need for support, leaned back against the table. “I would not think of putting you to so much trouble. You might bring the information to my hotel, or I will come to the museum early tomorrow.”

Lefaun held up his hand. “Not another word! It will be my great pleasure!"

Wayness sighed. “What do you have in mind?"

“First, we shall dine at the Pripetskaya, which specializes in reed-birds on the spit. But first: a dish of jellied eels dressed with caviar. Nor will we neglect the Mingrelian venison, in currant sauce."

“All this sounds expensive,” said Wayness. "Who is paying?”

Lefaun Zadoury blinked. "It occurred to me that since you are spending Society funds—"

“But I am not spending Society funds."

“Well then, we can share expenses. This is my usual habit when I dine in company with my friends.”

"I have an even better idea,” said Wayness. "I seldom eat much for dinner certainly not eels and birds and wild animals. So we shall each settle our own account."

"On second thought, we will go to Lena's Bistro where cabbage rolls are both cheap and tasty.'"

Wayness told herself philosophically that, after all, she had nothing better to do. "Whatever you like. When and where do we receive the information?"

”Information?” Lefaun was momentarily puzzled. “Ah yes. At Lena’s; that will be the place."

"Why Lena's? Why not here and now?"

“These things must be arranged. It is a delicate business."

Wayness made a dubious sound. "It seems most peculiar. In any case, I must be back early at my hotel."

Lefaun spoke with heavy jocularity: “Do not kill the bull before the cow is fresh! Let us see what we shall see!”

Wayness compressed her lips. "Perhaps it will be better after all, if I simply come here tomorrow morning; then you may stay out as late as you please. Remember, I need verification, unless you bring me a print-out copied from official Museum records."

Lefaun bowed with exaggerated deference” "I will call for you at your hotel early this evening. Shall we say eight o'clock?"

That is late."

"Not at Kiev. The town is barely astir. Well then, shall we say seven?"

"Very well. I would like to be back at nine.”

Lefaun made an ambiguous sound, and looked around the room. “I must attend to my regular affairs. When you are done with these files, please notify someone in the outer chamber, and he or she will call the porter. Until seven, then.”

Lefaun Zadoury departed the room on long strides, black gown fluttering behind him. Wayness turned and looked at the three cases. Biography, Genealogy, a projected new Society headquarters. They were elements of a single parcel; so Lefaun Zadoury had informed her and the code printed on each case was the same.

Wayness pondered a moment, then went to the door and looked into the outer chamber. It was now half-empty, and many of those who remained were preparing to leave.

Wayness closed the door. She returned to the table and copied the code which marked each of the three cases.

From far and wide across the city came the sound of a hundred great bells, tolling the hour of noon. Wayness leaned against the table and waited: five minutes, ten minutes. Once again she went to the door and looked out into the workroom, where everyone except a few preoccupied curators had gone off to lunch. Wayness went to a nearby alcove and seated herself in front of the information screen. She activated ‘Search' and 'Naturalist Society'. The screen yielded information regarding two parcels: semantic and linguistic references purchased from Gohoon Galleries and a second parcel comprising the three cases identified by the code she had only just copied. The indicated donor was: ‘Aeolus Benefices’, situated in the city Croy. The donation had been made fifteen years before.

Wayness copied the address, and ended the 'Search' program. She sat a moment thinking. Was the operation she had just completed beyond the imagination of Lefaun Zadoury? She thought not.

Wayness turned away from the alcove. “I do not want to become a cynic,” she told herself, “but until I find a more useful philosophy I see that I must abide by the rules of the jungle." Thinking of Lefaun Zadoury, she could not help but grin. "I have also saved twenty sols, which is a good morning’s work.”

Wayness approached one of the curators still at work and asked that the porter be notified as to the three cases in the side room. She was told somewhat ungraciously: “Notify him yourself; can't you see that I am busy?"

“Notify him how?”

“Push the red button beside the door the porter may feel inclined to respond. Or, on the other hand, he may not but that is his affair.”

“Thank you." Wayness left, the workroom, pressing the red button beside the door as she passed. In the loggia, she discarded the black gown, which lifted her spirits even further.

With nothing better to do, Wayness set out on foot: down the hill to the boulevard beside the Dnieper. At a wayside cart painted cheerfully red, blue and green, she bought a hot meat pie and a paper cornucopia filled with fried potato strings. Sitting on a bench she ate her lunch and watched the Dnieper flow by. What to do about Lefaun Zadoury and his no doubt unwholesome plans for the evening? She could not make up her mind; in spite of everything, he was amusing company.

Wayness finished her lunch and sauntered back along the prospect to the old Prlnce Kolsky Square and the Mazeppa Hotel. She made inquiries at the travel desk and learned that there would be no good connections for Croy until morning. “In that case," thought Wayness, “I will dine at Lena's Bistro after all, if only to embarrass Lefaun Zadoury.”

Wayness went up to her room with the intention of telephoning her uncle Pirie Tamm, but she hesitated. There were arguments which could be made in both directions. Pirie Tamm was a great one for issuing warnings and citing dangers.

Wayness caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, and decided that her hair had become over-long. She thought of Giljin Leepe and her eccentric thatch, but no, in fact, definitely not; a style so extreme would only make her feel self-conscious.

Wayness went down to the hair-dresser's shop on the ground floor, where her dark curling locks were trimmed so to hang just to the turn of her jaw.

Wayness returned to her room full of decision and immediately put through a call to Fair Winds.”

Pirie Tamm's first questions were indeed somewhat plaintive, and Wayness assured him as best she could. "I in a nice respectable hotel; the weather is fine and I am in good health.”

"You look somehow drawn and peaked.”

“That is because I have just had a haircut."

“Ah! That explains it I thought that you might have eaten something which upset your stomach."

“Not yet! But tonight I am having cabbage rolls at Lena's Bistro. It is said to be picturesque."

"Often that is merely a synonym for ‘dirty’.”

“You must not worry so! Everything’s going well. I have not been seduced or robbed or murdered or dragged screaming down into a cellar."

"So far so good, as you say, but any of these outrages might happen at a moment’s notice!"

“Somehow I suspect that seduction might take a bit longer. I am quite shy and I need a few minutes or even an hour before I warm up to people.''

“You must not joke about such things. They need only happen once, and then it is too late to take care."

“You are right, Uncle Pirie, of course. I should not be so flippant. Let me tell you know what I have learned. It is really quite important. Part of the Society Collection at Funusti Museum came by way of Gohoon Galleries .But another portion was donated fifteen years ago: by Aeolus Benefices, of Croy.”

“Aha, ahem. That is interesting indeed.“ Pirie Tamm's tone of voice had changed in a subtle manner. “Incidentally, one of your friends from Cadwal arrived yesterday, and is staying with me.”

Wayness' heart bounded. "Who? Glawen?"

“No,” said another voice and a second face moved into the screen. ‘It’s Julian."

"Oh my,” said Wayness in a husky half-whisper and then aloud: "What are you doing here?"