“There’s a man who heard nothing but pretty noises,” I remarked.
“Did you mean that?” Lorca asked.
“Mean what? About the Chairman?”
“No, about the music.”
“What do you think?”
She was silent. Clearly she believed I didn’t mean it but was too polite to say.
“I think you’re right,” Taragis said. “I didn’t quite understand what he was saying in the finale but I think you’ve put your finger on it.”
“On Earth we call this ‘classical’ music. Are you a fan?”
“Absolutely. I go to concerts whenever I can and have a large collection of recordings.”
“A silly question, perhaps. Are these sound recordings or are there images as well?”
“They’re mostly recordings of live concerts. Why do you ask?”
“Well, on Earth, the technology to produce high quality moving images with music has recently become feasible and all popular music is now produced this way. Purists, and I tend in that direction, argue that music is aural and adding images detracts from the experience of listening. I was interested in your opinion.”
“Sorry to butt in,” a voice said. “I couldn’t help overhearing your question. I am Ffenter Ghitcharistch, a producer of ‘music with images’ as you put it. I take the opposite view. In my opinion, seeing an orchestra perform or a singer sing greatly enhances the experience. The benefits of a live performance in the comfort of your own home.”
Our gate-crasher, if his name hadn’t suggested it was clearly of the same species as the director of the Lottery Presentation show, Frefris Whatever.
“Forgive me for asking,” I said, “but do you know Frefris…”
“Frefris Tschiffretsch? I know him well.”
“Is he here?”
“He’s around somewhere. Why?”
“I’d like to renew his acquaintance, that’s all. To respond to your point. Asking your opinion is a bit like asking the Interpellator Supreme whether crime investigation was a good thing, isn’t it?”
“What? You mean that because it’s my business, I’m biased?”
“Or you’re in the business because you hold that opinion. Anyway I wasn't thinking of live recordings, I was thinking of studio recordings.”
“Oh. Certainly it’s a challenge providing appropriate images to music recorded in the studio.”
“That’s one of the reasons I don’t like popular music,” Taragis said. “Because it seems to be conceived as much for the accompanying images as for the music itself.”
“I agree with you there, my friend,” our new acquaintance said. “I don’t have anything to do with pops. Give me the purity of the serious composer who writes his music in isolation with no thought other than the purity of the sound. That’s a challenge. Finding a director who understands the very heart of the music and can provide the perfect images that enhance the composer’s vision. That’s art.”
“I think you might just have proved my point,” I said with a faintly ironic smile.
“I don’t think so,” he said slightly brusquely.
It dawned on me that he wasn't really interested in a discussion. In fact he wasn’t really interested in me at all. His attention was on Lorca. Clearly his species had the same concept of the ideal femaleness as I did. I found I was slightly amused. Lorca didn’t find me attractive and, judging by her expression, she didn’t find Sir Ffenter Ghitcharistch attractive either.
“I rather think it does,” I said to annoy him. “If you have to work hard to find suitable images, then the music doesn’t need them in the first place.”
“Nonsense. It’s art. What do you know about art?”
“Not a lot, but I do know that meaningless images detract from good music.”
He was doing his best not to appear annoyed.
He turned to Lorca. “What do you think….” He left the sentence hanging. I hadn’t introduced him to her so he was hoping she’d take the bait and say her name.
“I know nothing about art, either,” she said coolly. “A good trivee is one with Crimson Sebstiennesen or Hebridessen Vaulvow.”
“They are very fine actors, of course, but there’s much more to trivee than action and romance. Trivee is the true artistic medium of our times. All of life is there; drama, pathos, passion and, of course, beauty.” He edged closer to her. “The great directors have the ability to explore our innermost emotions. They take us into the unknown on journeys of self-exploration and help deepen our understanding our place in the universe.”
Her eyes flicked to me then back. “Really?” She took a sip of her drink and glanced around the room. “I’ll take your word for it.”
There was a screech from behind me.
“Crawford.” I swung round to see Frefris Tschiffretsch bearing down on me with a beam on his face. He pounded me on the back. “Crawford, my friend, it’s good to see you. How have you been? No, don’t answer that. I’m insanely jealous, you know. Everywhere you go you steal the limelight. I swear I don’t know how you do it.”
“Frefris,” I said, trying to fend him off between laughs. “It’s good to see you. You seem a good deal more relaxed than when we last met.”
He beamed. “But of course. You know, of course, that I’ve been asked by TGT to direct a major new project starring… Well, I can’t say who. Let’s just say some very big names.”
“I didn’t know. Congratulations. I’m forgetting my manners. May I introduce my companion Madam Lorca Lhewlyn Dibhach and my friend Sir Taragis Hlawch. Lorca, Taragis, this is Sir Frefris Shifreff Tschiffretsch… I got that right, did I? Frefris was the director who did the marvellous Lottery Presentation show. Oh, and this gentleman is Sir Ffenter Ghitcharistch.”
“Enchanted, dear lady, Sir,” he said, clasping his hands in front of him and making little bobbing motions with his head. “Hello, Ffenter.”
“Frefris,” the latter said with a cool nod.
“Come along, you really must meet some people,” Frefris said, putting a friendly arm over my and Lorca’s shoulders and leading us off leaving our gate-crasher fuming.
I couldn’t get over the change in Frefris. He still resembled a stick insect but a healthy and cheerful one now. His colour had improved and he’d put on weight.
“What were you doing with that charlatan Ghitcharistch?”
“He butted in to our discussion. I think he fancied Lorca.”
“Did he? Well, that's something. He’s never been noted for his good taste before.”
It took Lorca a moment to work out this casual back-handed compliment and, blow me, if she didn’t blush. Not an easy thing to do with skin as dark as hers but she managed.
The group of beings Frefris introduced us to were as varied and flamboyant as he. They all seemed to be media types of one kind or another. They were loud, brittle and confident yet, underneath I sensed both a genuine warmth and underlying anxiety. The entertainment business is an uncertain one, I supposed. They included us immediately and laughed and gossiped and flirted outrageously. Resolving to learn from my previous experience, I tried to remain slightly detached. I doubted anyone in this group would wish me harm but… Taragis was in his element and even Lorca unbent and became animated.
We were the last to leave. I was concerned we’d overstayed our welcome but Frefris reassured me. “They know us entertainment types well. We always make the most of anything that’s free.”
We were invited to accompany them to a club they were heading for.
“I think we’re supposed to be eating somewhere,” I said.
“By the gods, I forgot,” Taragis cried. He pulled out his communicator and made some frantic calls. “Okay, it’s arranged. The car will be at Entrance D. Enjoy yourselves and I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“You’re not coming with us?” I teased.
“I’m afraid I have another engagement,” he said then grinned.
“You coming, Taragis?” a woman called.
“Be right there.”
“You sly dog,” I said with a grin. “Have fun.”
The group made off noisily and Lorca and I were alone.
“Do you have any idea where Entrance D is?” I said.
She nodded and set off without waiting to see if I was following. I gave a mental shrug and trotted after her. Lorca was quiet in the car. I sensed something was troubling her and I let her be.
Chapter 17
The restaurant was another quiet one in a different part of the city and again we were treated like ordinary patrons. We were somewhat overdressed but, other than a few surprised glances we were ignored. We were settled at our table in a quiet corner and presented our cards.
“May I make a suggestion?” I said.
“Of course.”
“As our metabolisms are compatible and I’ve enjoyed trying food from other cultures, perhaps we could order dishes we could share.”
“Well… if you insist.”
“I don’t insist. It was only a suggestion, that’s all.”
“Well…”
“It was just an idea. Forget it.”
“It’s not that. It’s…”
Something was definitely bothering her.
“It’s okay,” I said gently. “It really doesn’t matter.”
I turned my attention to the menu bit I could feel the vibes emanating from her.
“Crawford…” I looked up. “Crawford, there’s something I need to tell you.” I gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s not easy. Crawford, I’m not who you think I am.”
“You mean you’re not Lorca Lhewlyn Dibhach?”
“Of course I am. I mean I’m not what you think I am.”
“I can think of two obvious things, the first being that you’re not female.”
“I am female.” She was indignant.
“Good. The second is that you’re not attracted to men.”
“Oh, I find men attractive, well enough.”
“But not me.”
“No… I mean, yes… Oh, you’re making this difficult.”
“Not intentionally but I’m not good at guessing games. What exactly is it you’re not that you think I expect you are?”
“I’m not compatible with you.”
“Still guessing games, I’m afraid. I know you don’t find me particularly attractive but I wouldn’t go so far as to claim we’re incompatible.”
“Oh, but I do,” she burst out. “I mean we can’t breed.”
I looked around to see if anyone had noticed.
“Ah, you mean we’re not genetically compatible. I know.”
“What? How could you know?” Her tone was incredulous.
I smiled thinly. “I may be a barbarian but I’m not stupid. I worked it out. I didn’t know about you specifically but was aware there are a significant number of you who, shall we say, shouldn’t be in the group.”
“You knew that? Then why haven’t you done something about it?”
“Such as?”
“Reported it. Told someone.”
“I did. Sir Devoted-Acolyte knows, so do Madam Brabicoso and Taragis.”
“They do?” She seemed surprised. “Why haven’t they done anything about it? Don’t they care? Don’t you care?”
I glanced round again. “Sir Devoted-Acolyte cares… very much. He was very, very angry when he found out. And I assume Barbita and Taragis care. They’re Lottery employees, after all. But…” I leant over the table and said in a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ll let you into a secret. I don’t care.”
She was shaking her head in puzzlement. Her earrings swayed and sparkled.
“But…”
“Look, this is neither the time nor the place. I’ll explain more later. For now, what I do care about is that I’m having dinner with you and you’re not happy. Please believe me when I say your status in the group is irrelevant. I’m sorry the spark’s missing between us. I wish it wasn’t but wishing isn’t going to make it happen. That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other’s company and our meal. People can be friends even if they’re not lovers.”
“Oh.”
She sat back in her chair and studied me. I couldn’t fathom what was behind it so I bore her scrutiny with a sincere expression.
“You really don’t care?”
“I really don’t care. Shall we order?”
She seemed to come to some sort of decision. “I think you’ll like barreti in floiddafl sauce with wild selek.”
“Oh. Right.” Clearly a corner had been turned although I didn’t know why or in which direction we were now heading. After ascertaining she liked spicy food I selected a penne arrabiata and, a favourite of mine, garlic mushrooms for starters. Not, perhaps, the best things to eat if you want to make a favourable impression on a girl but, if we were both eating them, we wouldn’t notice each other’s smelly breath.
“Tell me,” she said while we waited for our food. “How did you really enjoy the concert?”
“Honestly? I both enjoyed it and I didn’t.”
She laughed. It was the first positive emotion she’d displayed towards me. Perhaps the corner had been turned in my direction.
“You are a master of diplomacy, if nothing else.”
“I’ve had to learn quickly.”
“How can you enjoy something and not enjoy it at the same time?”
“Quite easily. Think about swimming in a cold sea.”
“Ugh. I don’t follow.”
“Well, if you plunge into icy water, it’s so cold it takes your breath away and makes you shiver but, at the same time, there’s something exhilarating about it and, when you get out, you feel very alive. Your whole body tingles.”
“You make a habit of diving into freezing water?”
I shuddered. “Not at all. I avoid all forms of water except for showering and drinking.”
“The only thing you’re avoiding is answering my question.”
“Not at all. You asked how you could both enjoy and not enjoy something at the same time. I was giving an example.”
“Stop teasing.”
At least she’d recognised I was teasing and hadn’t gone all huffy on me.
“I find your music very hard on the ears. We have fewer notes and these are much more into harmony. Your music sounds strident and atonal to my ears. That’s the ‘didn’t enjoy’ bit. On the other hand, once I stopped trying to listen my way and just… listened, I began to understand it a bit, I think.”
I rehearsed the impressions I’d had during the concert. She nodded thoughtfully as I spoke and didn’t interrupt.
“I suppose I really owe you another apology,” she said when I’d finished.
“I’m always grateful when a beautiful woman apologises to me. But what have I done to deserve this one?”
“I’ve misjudged you. You see, all I knew about you was from what was on the trivee… and from the other girls, of course, but they had…” she glanced down coyly, “…that look so were biased. You said earlier it was all an act. I think I believe you now.”
“An act? I did say that, didn’t I? The public bit’s an act. It took me a while to realise that I made an implicit contract with the Commission by accepting the prize. I don’t particularly like it or enjoy it but I try to do it as best I can.” I shrugged. “I suppose it’s my barbaric nature. If you commit to something you do it to the best of your ability.”
“That’s not barbaric, that’s professionalism.”
I grinned. “Then I’m a professional barbarian.”
“Why do you keep talking about being a barbarian?”
“Because that’s what people see me as, isn’t it? You too. Be honest.”
She blushed. It was amazing how someone with such dark skin could blush. She looked even more attractive when she did, too.
“Actually, I find it rather surprising,” I continued. “There’s such an amazing diversity of beings here that you’d’ve thought people would be more tolerant.”
Whatever she was going to reply was lost as our food arrived along with a bottle of something that looked suspiciously like champagne.
“With the compliments of the owner, Sir and Madam,” the server said.
“That’s very civil of him or her. Please convey our thanks.”
“Enjoy your meal.”
I bit into a mushroom. It was perfect. The Galaxy might have many failings but their ability to reproduce food was second to none. I wondered how they did it when it was all done by a machine and no being had ever seen a mushroom let alone a garlicked one.
“Good?” Lorca said.
“Absolutely.”
On an impulse I speared one and presented it to her. She looked surprised then opened her mouth and closed her lips round the proffered titbit. I had a fleeting image of those lips closing around… I suppressed it quickly. She bit and chewed. An expression of delight came over her face.
“What are they?”
“I don’t know if I should tell you. I believe it’s not always wise to know where your food came from.”
“Nothing nasty, I hope?”
“No. A bit unusual but not unpleasant.”
“Is the flavour part of it?”
“No. It’s garlic; a pungent vegetable.”
“Well, it’s very nice.”
I grinned. “Your neighbours won’t think so. Your breath will smell of garlic till tomorrow.”
She scooped up a spoonful of her starter. “Turn about is fair play,”
I made a production of sucking the spoon. The contents were a thick deep purply-red liquid with crunchy bits in it. The liquid was quite sweet. I chewed a crunchy bit and gasped. It was hot like chillis.
“Wheeoo. That packs a punch.”
She was smiling. “It does. Wait a few seconds.”
I did. The liquid seemed to interact with the heat to sensitise the taste buds. I found my mouth watering.
“Delicious. The aftertaste is amazing.”
“Khall is one of my favourite appetisers.”
“I can understand why.”
We shared the rest of our starters. The combination of the slightly claustrophobic taste of the mushrooms and the liquid fire of the khall was amazing. More importantly, the sharing signalled a weakening of the barrier between us. The main courses arrived and we shared them too. Becoming closer was good but it had one significant drawback. After my initial reaction to her physical appearance, her manner and my reaction to it had allowed me to ignore it. Now I found I couldn’t. Her exaggerated sexual attributes triggered an involuntary and primitive response in me. I had to concentrate hard not to either indulge in outrageous flirting or make any overt sexual moves. I tried to keep the conversation to neutral topics but it was hard. Sharing food is, by definition, an intimate act and sharing with someone as sexually attractive as her was doubly so. As we ate I tried to judge her mood but found her very hard to read. We had finished the dessert when she broached the topic.
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