by Lindsay Peet
CHAPTER THREE
It’s a funny thing about religious ceremonies for me. I remember the feelings aroused, the joy, the hope, the peace – but of the words, the concepts or precepts, nothing. Zip. Which means that later on I not only have no idea why I felt so good, but I have no way of replenishing the stores of joy, hope and peace that I’ve squandered since, except by going back for a refill. Maybe that’s the way it’s meant to be.
So it wasn’t just the punch with the zoocaine – yes, I should have felt it, I guess, that the punch had been doped, but that was only after I’d had two cups. Maybe because the whole shebang did not end up as an orgy I didn’t pick up on this at first, or maybe because this was the first time I’d had it in public, but it turned out that zoocaine didn’t inevitably lead to wonderful frantic sex. Preferably, to my thinking, but not inevitably. But the beautiful soul-connections I felt, what silly-grinning bliss I experienced, what communal sharing I, um, shared with all who were there, was all glorious. Instead of physical coupling I felt like I’d spiritually coupled with every soul in the crowd, something hinted at the night I spent with Pex-al-Pex. Afterwards I made my way back to my room, alone, and slept as I hadn’t since I was a child.
Right up until Zeno pounded on my door. I neither knew nor cared how early or late it was, such a sleep ought not be interrupted, for anything, ever. It’s like being born all over again, ejected from the soft warm womb of sheets and pillows to confront the raucous and cold ‘reality’ we struggle our way through the balance of our days. Or at least that’s how I see it – I’ve been trying my whole life to get back into a womb, but have so far succeeded with only a small part – well, not that small a part. But, have you noticed, fellows, that once there you feel like, “This is where I belong!” Small wonder we spend our energies like giant sperm, trying to get back, only to be flushed out and leave again far, far too soon. Pity we can’t stay there, eh?
As I was saying, Zeno was pounding on the door to my room. Found a robe, went to door, flung door open and confronted the bully bastard. “What!” shouted in his face, hoping to foul him with my morning breath. His eyes travelled down me, stopped; I glanced down – “I was having a happy dream, you interrupted!” “Brunch meeting in half an hour, downstairs canteen. Make yourself presentable, Daskal.” Turned on his heel and went to roust Wanliet, I didn’t doubt. That man hated me. Shut door and shambled to shower.
Suds, steam and streams of water restored me my soul, even my mood some. Dressed, I went over to Wanliet’s and knocked to let him know the bathroom was free.
No answer. I opened the door and peeked in – no sign he’d been in the room since we’d changed clothes the day before. Interesting – I sat down and pondered on Wanliet, Chugtallis, Lordano, Zeno, in fact the whole mess was still swirling around in my head like the lights in the damn treasure balls when Zeno entered again. “Do you know where Wanliet, our Inspector General, has gone to?”
“Not a clue. We were at the Gurjoo’s, um, ceremony last night, he gave a little speech, and that’s the last I saw of him. I’m sure he’s okay, don’t worry about Wanliet, he’s always okay.”
“I hope you aren’t getting involved with that juju space jazz. I’m not worried about our IG’s welfare, at least not until I see him, at which point I might do him serious harm myself. No, his presence is necessary for the meeting in five minutes with two mayors, your precious Gurjoo, and assorted VIPs of this little piddling village.”
I’d kinda realized Chugtallis wasn’t Zeno’s style, but he didn’t have to be insulting about my new favorite place. “Well, unless you’ve got a secret IG locator implanted in him, I don’t think he’s going to make the meeting. We’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got.”
“Really. You honestly think that you and I will be able to flim-flam these people?”
I stared at him, trying hard not to laugh. “Honesty doesn’t really figure into it. You seem to have forgotten who you’re talking to,” I chuckled. He stopped his slow burn for a tick, then guffawed as he saw the absurdity of what he’d said, of doubting whether I could perpetrate fraud. It was the most human thing I ever saw him do, and made me like him, if just for a moment. “Yes, I suppose you’ve had some experience with this sort of thing, haven’t you, you rascal,” he grinned at me. “All right then, let’s prepare our faces to meet the faces we shall meet,” and off we went.
As we were going down it hit me that Zeno and Lordano had never met. Somehow I had to tip the Gurjoo that I didn’t want Zeno to know that the Gurjoo had been my confederate, since you never know when withheld information can give you the edge you need, or revealed history can knock your legs out from under you. As Zeno opened the smoky grey door to the meeting room I began complaining loudly, “Quite a place you have here, Zeno, the way people keep disappearing. First one of our aides, Lordano, disappears, then Jedub goes away, and now the Inspector General himself is gone! Sure, a lot of ships have disappeared and turned up here on Caliuga, but it seems the disappearing doesn’t stop once you’re here!”
Rekaburb and Lordano looked up at us as we entered, as did three other pairs of eyes. I thought Rekaburb was going to blow it, but Lordano laid a hand on his forearm and subtly shook his head, and Rekaburb shrugged minutely and stilled himself. The other three waiting for us were the mayor of Chugtallis, who was a handsome weathered woman, the chair of their chamber of commerce, and the chief of police. All were looking beyond us, for the IG who wasn’t coming, so I got right down to business.
“The Inspector General sends his regrets. The excitement of last night’s ceremonies, with the Gurjoo,” here I nodded to Lordano, “combined with all the travel seem to have over-tired him. However, I’m sure we can carry on almost as well without him. By the way, nice place here. What’s it called?”
The chair of the C of C answered, “It’s a canteen. A couple named Harry and Irene run it. Mostly caters to painters and such.”
“Ah, yes,” chimed in Zeno. “I noticed the colors on the buildings around the square. Those painters must keep very busy.” Turning to me, he added heartily, “You can always tell where to get a good meal by following a working man!”
Chugtallis’ mayor looked embarrassed, then she kind of mumbled, “They’re not that kind of painter.” Zeno’s brow furrowed, then his eyes opened, and for only a moment he was embarrassed, too. But An-Tuin hadn’t graduated summa cum laude for nothing, and he breezed right past the awkwardness. “Why we’re here, gentlemen, and lady, is to discuss Chugtallis’ joining the Planetary Union.”
The three looked at one another, while Rekaburb and Lordano looked at each other, and all seemed to agree, so Her Honor spoke up. “No, no, that’s not why we’re here at all. We’re here to greet His Excellency the Inspector General, and welcome him to Chugtallis, the freest and most dynamic community on all of Caliuga!” Then Rekaburb piped up, “Well, one of the two freest and most dynamic.” He paused, then, “And we’re here to formally introduce the Gurjoo to the Inspector General. We’re hoping that His Excellency can spend some time with the Gurjoo. Our prayers are that His Excellency can help spread the peace, joy and love of our Gurjoo to the rest of the Empire.” Lordano barely nodded, his eyes dreamy, his mouth closed.
As it happened, that was the way I liked him best.