by Max Frei
Lookfi smiled and said, “I’m alone, Sir Juffin, because the others stayed behind to discuss a philosophical matter: the question of necessity versus free will.”
“Sinning Magicians! What’s going on over there?”
“No need for concern, sir. They are trying to come to a decision. After all, someone should stay behind at the Ministry. On the one hand, that is Sir Melifaro’s responsibility. He is your Representative, and when you can’t be at the House by the Bridge, his presence there is required. He already knows Sir Max, so his presence here as a matter of etiquette would seem unnecessary. On the other hand, as your Deputy and our Senior, he has the right to appoint any substitute he judges to be competent.”
Juffin chuckled, and Sir Kofa smiled.
“When I left,” Lookfi continued, after absent-mindedly taking a gulp from my glass of Tears of Darkness, “Lady Melamori was saying that of the three of them, she was the only one who had not yet met Sir Max. She said she didn’t want to hear any more of their philosophical wrangling, and that she was going to sit in the next room until they finished their idiotic debate. Allow me, if I may, to disagree with her view of the matter. I think the discussion was very interesting, and I believe there is a moral to be learned from it. But I thought it might occur to Sir Melifaro that I am also a member of the Secret Investigative Force. In short, I thought it best to be impolite and leave on my own accord.”
“Give that glass back to Sir Max and take your own. There’s more in it,” Kofa Yox whispered. “Be careful, my boy: what if that’s considered a terrible insult among the inhabitants of the Barren Lands? You can’t imagine how frightening Sir Max is when he’s enraged.”
“Oh dear . . .” Sir Lookfi’s face expressed both of fear and curiosity at the same time. “Is that true, Sir Max?”
“You’re in luck,” I said. “According to our traditions, that signifies the beginning of a long and close friendship. To seal this pact, however, I must finish your glass. Besides, it’s brimming over!”
Sir Juffin Hully looked at me with almost fatherly pride. Lookfi was radiant:
“You see, Sir Kofa! And you said it was an insult. I have very good intuition, you know. When I was still just a schoolboy, I already . . . Oh, forgive me gentlemen. I get carried away sometimes. My school years are not the most interesting subject for table-talk.” He turned to me. “Sir Max, is it true that you will be working alone and only by night? You know, night is the most interesting time of day! I’ve always envied people who don’t feel the need to go to bed as soon as the sun sets. For example, my wife Varisha also believes that real life only begins after nightfall. That’s why I almost never get enough sleep.” He finished his speech abruptly, looking quite sheepish.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Your habits also have their advantages.”
“It seems that the idea of responsibility has won in the philosophical debate,” Juffin said. “I salute the victors!”
Now I saw a couple, charming in all respects, approaching us. One of the two was the tall, lean Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli, who resembled Charlie Watts. He was dressed, as usual, all in white. Leaning on his arm was a petite, spry lady, wrapped in an elegant looxi the color of the night sky. Instead of the broad-shouldered Amazon I had expected as my colleague, she was a celestial creature with the face of Diana Rigg, the English actress who played James Bond’s erstwhile girlfriend. I wonder how they feel about office romances here? I made a mental note to ask Juffin about that.
Jokes aside, the lady was indeed lovely. Her eyes twinkled with intelligence and humor. I had always thought those were two sides of the same coin. I sensed with all my body—only recently awakened to all the wonderful possibilities—the power that exuded from this little lady, no less dangerous than that of the phlegmatic Sir Lonli-Lokli, whose deadly hands I had already seen in action.
“I am happy to speak my name: Melamori Blimm, Master of Pursuit of the Fleeing and Hiding,” the lady introduced herself quietly. Much to my surprise she seemed visibly nervous. Sinning Magicians, what had they told her about me?
“It gives me joy to hear your name spoken,” said I. Not out of a sense of courtesy. I sincerely meant it.
Lonli-Lokli nodded at me politely with the surreptitious pride of an old friend and sat down next to Lookfi Pence. Melamori moved closer, and my head felt giddy from the pungent scent of her perfume.
“Forgive my familiarity, Sir Max, but I decided to come with a gift. Sir Juffin would surely think me a miser if I had done otherwise.” With these words she drew out a bottle from the folds of her looxi. “I am sure you have not tried wine of this kind before. I myself have rarely had the pleasure to enjoy it, although my uncle, Kima Blimm, favors me above everyone else in the family.”
Handing me the bottle carefully, she sat down on a stool next to Kofa. I examined the bottle.
“You’re a lucky man, Sir Max!” Juffin exclaimed. Suddenly he looked two hundred years younger. “That is indeed a rarity. Eternal Dew is a wine from the deepest cellars of the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover! Kima Blimm, Melamori’s uncle, is the Supervisor in Chief of the Order’s wines. That’s why I hired her. There, there, don’t take offense, Lady Melamori! We didn’t meet just yesterday. You could very well make a list of Sir Juffin Hully’s Worst Jokes and sell it to the Echo Hustle and Bustle.”
“Well, Sir Max has just met me, and he’ll think that I got my job in the Secret Investigative Force because of my relatives,” Melamori said, sounding hurt.
“Sir Max knows me too well, my dear. Besides, I suspect he’s already sensed your worth. Not even half an hour ago he pointed out Sir Kofa, who came disguised as a lady of grand proportions, and asked me if he wasn’t one of the Secret Investigators. Isn’t that right, Sir Max?”
Three pairs of eyes fastened themselves upon me. I felt a strong urge to study the contents of my cup.
“You’re exaggerating, sir. Suppose that my guess was right, just for once . . . All right, I admit that when I saw Lady Melamori, I thought that she must be at least as dangerous as Sir Shurf, that’s all,” I said, winking at the pouting beauty. “Am I right?”
Melamori smiled like a cat who had eaten a filling meal.
“I think the men I dragged by the collar and threw into Xolomi, or someplace worse, would agree with you, Sir Max,” she said, then added with the expression of a sweet little girl, “Still, you do me too much credit. Sir Shurf is an unparalleled killer. Me? I’m still learning. But I am good at manhunting!” Melamori smiled again, showing her sharp little teeth. “And I need only start trailing a man for his luck to turn and his strength to wane,” the dangerous lady said, then looked at us quizzically. “Forgive me, I seem to have allowed myself to get carried away!”
“It’s quite all right,” said Juffin. “You should take advantage of Melifaro’s absence while you can, dear girl. At what point do you think he would have interrupted that fiery speech of yours?”
“Right after the second word,” said Melamori, and giggled. “That’s for sure! Although when Sir Melifaro and I are alone, his gallantry knows no bounds. He lets me say at least five or six words at a time. Can you believe it?”
“No, I can’t. Even I am rarely able to accomplish that; and I am the Most Venerable Head! By the way, Shurf, how did you manage to get past him?”
“That was easy. I asked your personal buriwok, Kurush, to quote from the section of the Code that Sir Melifaro received upon being appointed to his job. It clearly stated that—”
“I see,” said Juffin, laughing. “There is no need to continue. A hole in the heavens above you both! You’re two of a kind!”
Harmony in the Minor Secret Investigative Force, I surmised, was based on the ancient dialectical principle of the unity and struggle of opposites. Temperamental Melifaro and cold-blooded Lonli-Lokli; unpredictable Juffin and steady, reliable Kofa Yox; harmless, gangly Lookfi and the formidable little lady Melamori Blimm. I wonder, which of them I would have to counterbalance? I suppose it wou
ld have to be all of them at once. I am, after all, a creature from another world.
In the meantime, everyone’s attention seemed to be fixed on the bottle of Eternal Dew.
“May I ask you, Sir Kofa, to divide this luxury between all of us fairly?” My intuition told me that this elderly gentleman was a person one could depend on in such sticky everyday situations.
My generosity won me the heartfelt goodwill of all present. Later, Sir Juffin told me that if I had taken the gift home with me it would have been accepted as a matter of course—they know how to respect the gastronomic weaknesses of others here. But my decision came as a pleasant surprise to the gathering of gourmets.
During the tasting, Lonli-Lokli astonished me yet again. From beneath the snow-white folds of his looxi he produced a wooden cup, darkened with age, and handed it to Sir Kofa. This in itself did not surprise me: I could very well imagine Sir Shurf carrying an ancient family heirloom around with him everywhere he went for just such an occasion. Then I noticed that the cup had no bottom. Sir Kofa paid this no heed and impassively filled the holy chalice with the rare drink. Not a drop spilled from the cup. Juffin understood that I was in urgent need of a brief history lesson.
“Don’t look so surprised, Max. In his time, Sir Shurf was a member of the Order of the Holey Cup. He served there as a Fish-Fellow, Keeper of the Order’s Aquariums, which had as many holes as this honorable vessel. Members of the Order ate only fish, which they bred in those very aquariums, and washed down their meals with drinks from jugs with holes in the bottom. Isn’t that right, my friend?”
Lonli-Lokli nodded gravely, and downed his portion of the drink.
“Before the Troubled Times,” Juffin continued, “the Order of the Holey Cup was in good standing with the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover.” This he said with a respectfully comic bow in the direction of Lady Melamori. “So it was dissolved on very agreeable terms. Like his other former colleagues, our good Sir Shurf still has special permission to adhere to the ancient traditions of his order. In other words, he may drink from a holey cup. Because he is using forbidden magic, he is obliged to offset the potentially dire consequences of his actions with all his might. This he does every time, although it consumes a great deal of the power he gains from the ritual. Have I left anything out, Sir Lonli-Lokli?”
“You have explained the reasons and consequences of my action in a succinct and informative manner,” Lonli-Lokli intoned with a nod. He held the cup in both hands, and his impassive face radiated an intense serenity.
After a tray filled with pots of delicacies and a portion of Eternal Dew had been sent off to poor Melifaro at my insistence, I could be certain that from then on, every one of my colleagues would be willing to die for a smile from me. I wasn’t going to be the one to impose that fate on them, though. I smiled a lot that evening, and absolutely free of charge. I managed to maneuver around the thorny ethnographical questions that poured from the curious but trusting Lookfi, to flirt with Lady Melamori, to listen to Sir Kofa, to pronounce Lonli-Lokli’s name correctly, and to amuse Juffin. It was amazing! For the first time in my life I was the life of the party, and a significant one at that. When the number of dirty dishes finally exceeded the capabilities of any local dishwasher, we decided to part ways. Sir Kofa Yox kindly deigned to take Melifaro’s shift, and in an equally compassionate gesture, Sir Juffin Hully awarded them each an extra Day of Freedom from Chores. Then he extended an invitation to both of them for dinner tomorrow around sunset at the Glutton. So it seemed that Melifaro had only gained from missing today’s event.
The Ministry of Perfect Public Order had to do without me for one last night. I planned to spend it moving into my new place. The next day, after lunch, I was supposed to report to the House by the Bridge and officially begin my job. Put simply, I had to figure out what was required of me in the course of a few hours, though doubts about my abilities were gradually disappearing.
The family amobiler arrived for Lady Melamori. The fragile, petite Master of Pursuit smiled as we bid each other goodnight and told me quietly that Sir Max was a strange name: a bit too short, but it sounded nice all the same. And off she rolled toward home in truly royal pomp and splendor. Besides the driver, her amobiler boasted two musicians, whose job it was to fulfill the role of a car stereo.
Lookfi and Lonli-Lokli set off for home in the company amobiler. Everyone has the right to do this, though not everyone takes advantage of the privilege. Old Kimpa, Sir Juffin Hully’s butler, came to pick us up. Juffin always leaves for home in his own amobiler, which he justifies by saying that the company vehicle makes him feel like he‘s still at work. In his own amobiler, however, he feels like he’s already home. And you’d have to be the last fool on earth to refuse to knock off work a half hour early. I think that makes perfect sense.
On our way back home we sat side by side in silent contentment. When you know what to talk about with someone, it’s a sign of mutual sympathy. But when you are moved to be quiet together—well, that’s the start of a real friendship.
“Should we sit another half hour over some kamra?” asked Juffin. It wasn’t really a question, but more a statement of fact on his part, as we stood in the doorway of the house. Little Chuff met us in the foyer, wagging his stubby tail. Max has come! But he is leaving, going far far away, the mournful thoughts of the old dog reached me.
“I won’t be that far, Chuff!” I said to the dog. “I’d take you with me, but I know you couldn’t stand being away from your master. Besides, unlike Kimpa, I don’t know how to cook, and I know you have gourmet tastes. I’ll come visit you, all right?”
My furry friend sighed and licked his chops. You’ll come visit. For lunch, he responded with enthusiasm.
Sir Juffin was pleased.
“So you see, everything is taken care of. That a boy, Chuff! A healthy, pragmatic attitude, and no sentiment whatsoever!”
We settled ourselves in comfortable armchairs in the parlor, and Chuff lay down at my feet, allowing himself this slight disloyalty to Juffin in view of the occasion. Kimpa served us kamra and cookies. I enjoyed lighting up my last cigarette, as my reserves had finally run out. My new life was about to begin. I would switch to smoking a pipe or quit smoking altogether. Neither choice seemed particularly appealing, but there were no others in sight.
We exchanged a bit of gossip about my new acquaintances—Juffin’s curiosity seemed to know no bounds. Now he wanted to know my opinion: Did I like Kofa? What about Lookfi? And Melamori? Since the topic had come up anyway, I decided to ask about office romances. Were they outlawed by some regulation in the Code of Krember? Because if they were forbidden, Juffin was free to arrest me right then and there for criminal intent.
“I’m not aware that such things are forbidden. A strange idea, really . . . Is it where you come from? Forbidden, I mean?” he asked in surprise.
“No, not really. But having a relationship with someone at work is frowned upon. Although that’s all anyone ever does.”
“Your World is an odd place, Max! You think one thing, but you do the opposite. We don’t ‘think’ anything. The law stipulates what is required of us, superstition is a matter of inner conviction, traditions attest to our love of habit; but even so, everyone is free to do what he wishes. Go ahead and give it a try, if you feel like it. Although, I don’t think it’s such a good idea. Lady Melamori is a strange young woman. She’s an incurable idealist, and I do believe she enjoys her solitude. Melifaro has been courting her for several years now, without success. She enjoys telling everyone about it; but what good can come of it?”
“Oh, I can just imagine what Melifaro’s attentions are like! ‘Please be so kind as to remove your splendiferous backside from my presence, dear, for its divine shapeliness is distracting me!’”
Sir Juffin laughed. “You guessed it, Max! You really are clairvoyant!”
“Not at all. It’s just that some things go without saying.”
“Regardless, Melifaro is a favorite am
ong the ladies. Although he is no redhead; but then again, neither are you! Do as you wish, though I fear your efforts will not meet with success.”
“I’ve never really had any luck with women in my life. Well, at first I was fairly lucky. Then all of a sudden, they all thought they had to get married for some reason. And not to me. It’s especially strange, because I almost always fell in love with very smart girls. Even that didn’t help matters. I don’t see how any intelligent person could seriously want to get married. In any case, I’m used to it.”
“Well, if that’s how it is, it means you’re either the most thick-skinned or the slipperiest son-of-a-werewolf in the entire Unified Kingdom.”
“Neither. This is probably another one of those cultural differences. We forget pain quickly, and those who can’t at least dull it are apt to inspire pity mixed with incomprehension. Their relatives may also try to persuade them to see a psychoanalyst. I suppose that’s because we don’t live very long, and spending several years on one sorrow would be a ridiculous extravagance.”
“How long do you live?” asked Sir Juffin in surprise.
“About seventy or eighty years. Why do you ask?”
“You die so young? Every one of you?”
“But you see, we’re old by that time.”
“How old are you, Max?”
“Thirty . . . at least, I will be soon. Perhaps I already am. When is my birthday? I’ve lost count since I came here.”
Sir Juffin became seriously alarmed.
“Still a child! Oh dear! I hope you’re not going to die prematurely in forty or fifty years time. Now, let me take a good look at you.”
Juffin jumped out of his chair. A second later he was poking my back with his hands, which suddenly became ice-cold and heavy. Then his hands grew hot, and I felt that my mind, which always used to occupy a place somewhere behind my eyes, was shifting, moving down my spine. I could “see” the warm radiance of his coarse palms with my . . . back! Then it ended, just as unexpectedly as it had begun. Sir Juffin returned to his place, thoroughly satisfied with the results of his examination.