“That’s all right, sir,” I said. “One can’t go against one’s nature, right? I just stopped by to lift your spirits.”
“You, Sir Max? Lift my spirits?” Boboota was stupefied.
“Uh-huh.” I put the humidor down on the table in front of him. “Just got it in the mail this morning. It’s from my relatives in the Kumon Caliphate. You did like these, didn’t you?”
“I did like them very much!” Boboota smiled at me in ecstasy. He opened the humidor, grabbed a cigar, and began to fumble with it impatiently. He almost wept with emotion. “You saved my life again, Sir Max! How can I repay you?”
“Funny you should ask,” I said with a smile, “because today is the day you can do it. I need the help of your best policemen, and right away. We’ll be happy to do all the paperwork, but it’ll take about two days. So, what do you think? Can you and I arrange it so that your boys start working for us now, and the paperwork—”
“Oh, forget about the paperwork. Flush it down the toilet!” said Boboota. “What paperwork can there be between friends, Sir Max! Take as many of my boys as you wish. Take them all.”
“Well, we really don’t need all of them. And we’re not going to flush any paperwork down the toilet. We’ll give it to you, instead, and you may deal with it however you deem appropriate, including flushing it down the toilet. How about tomorrow or the day after? Would you mind?”
“Mind! How can I say no to a man who brought me such a precious gift and . . . and . . .” Boboota stopped short and fell silent, confused.
And wears a Mantle of Death and spits venom whenever he sees fit, I thought. I thanked him and got up to leave.
“Sir Max, with your gift you have just patched a large hole in my life,” said Boboota. He finally managed to find words that could express his feelings.
Now that’s what I call a metaphor, I thought approvingly.
Melifaro hadn’t returned to the office yet. Lookfi Pence had already left for the Main Archive, his place of duty. Lonli-Lokli was contemplating the runic ornaments on his protective gloves. Melamori and Juffin were whispering to each other.
“So, what did Boboota say? Did he try to object?” said Juffin.
“I don’t think he’d object even if I took a dump right on his table,” I said.
“Really? Of all the miracles you’ve been so quick to pick up, this is the most unfathomable. You’ve outdone me, Max. I tip my hat to you.”
“You just don’t have any common interests that would call for heart-to-heart talks,” I said with a smile. “The poor guy is longing for a sophisticated interlocutor, an expert in outhouses.”
Melamori smiled absentmindedly, staring off in the distance, then got up from her chair and left without saying a word. I couldn’t quite figure out whether Juffin had just entrusted her with an important task, or whether she just wanted to go for a walk. That was very much like her.
Melifaro, his emerald-green looxi flashing, rushed into the Hall of Common Labor with a dozen policemen trailing behind him. I knew some of them, but others looked unfamiliar to me.
“Here he is, boys, the monster you’ve heard so much about,” said Melifaro pointing his finger at me. “Sir Juffin, here’s our entire White List for you. And Sir Chekta Jax to boot.”
A short, brawny, gloomy-looking fellow frowned at Melifaro but didn’t say a word.
“Don’t pay any attention to him, Chekta. Unfortunately, this is not the first time we’ve had to deal with Sir Melifaro. It’s time you got used to him,” said a cold female voice.
I examined the voice’s owner, a pretty, gray-eyed lady. She was tall—almost as tall as me—with a body shaped according to the canons of beauty of Ancient Greece. She had an air of grace and refinement about her.
The owner of the ice-cold voice noticed me looking at her, covered her eyes with her hand, and said, “I see you as in a waking dream. I’m glad to speak my name: I am Lady Kekki Tuotli.”
She seemed to have more of an air of high society about her than the king himself (who, I thought, was a very down-to-earth fellow). I immediately assumed a serious expression and greeted her according to custom, cleverly balancing smiles and the appropriate intonations. I had to atone for the sins of that dunce Melifaro.
Lady Kekki Tuotli listened to me patiently, gave me a dry nod, and turned away haughtily. What a shrew, I thought, taken aback. Then it dawned on me that the poor thing was simply very, very shy. That’s how it is with some people: the shyer they are, the more arrogantly they behave to disguise it. It was amusing, so I sent her a silent call.
Don’t worry, my lady. I’m also very shy among strangers. And take it easy on Melifaro. The world wouldn’t be the same without him.
She looked at me in surprise and grinned slightly. I sighed with relief. I hate working in a strained environment.
“I’m also glad to speak my name: I am Lieutenant Apurra Blookey.” A dapper middle-aged gentleman in a bright looxi looked at me with poorly concealed curiosity. “Lady Tuotli and I have been meaning to come by and meet you, but—”
“But you have a great deal of work to do,” I helped him finish his thought.
“We do, indeed,” said the lieutenant readily.
“Okay, boys, let’s consider this the end of the official introductions and get down to business,” said Juffin.
“How do you mean ‘the end’?” said Melifaro. “What about synchronized bowing to the ‘mighty buriwok’?”
“Later,” said Juffin. “By the way, how come you’re still here and not at the Customs?”
“At the Customs?” said Melifaro. “What am I supposed to be doing there?”
“You’re not too quick today, I guess. That ‘filthy Mudlax’—a hole in the heavens above his home—came to Echo seventeen years ago, right? I’m sure they would have remembered him passing through. One can hardly forget an event like that. Afterward, send a call to Melamori. Maybe she can pick up his trace there. Beats hanging out here doing nothing.”
“Got it,” said Melifaro. “I’ll sniff out whatever I can and then call Melamori. I’ll be back in no time.”
“That’s for sure,” said Juffin and smiled. Then he turned to the policemen. “Now, while Sir Melifaro is drowning himself with Jubatic Juice in the company of Sir Nulli Karif and the ghost of old Tyoovin, we can finally get down to business.”
Thirty minutes later, after the briefing, the policemen went to the Main Archive. When they returned, each of them was carrying a buriwok. It seemed that the birds were puzzled: On the one hand, they were burning with curiosity. On the other hand, these feathery little beasts are not too keen on changing their habits all of a sudden. Most of them hadn’t left the cozy vaults of the Main Archive for more than a hundred years.
“And don’t forget, gentlemen: at dusk all the buriwoks must be back here along with their companions,” said Lookfi Pence, “or they will refuse to work with you tomorrow.”
“There’s not a whole lot of time before dusk, so consider today’s stroll to be a rehearsal,” said Juffin. “But if someone meets a man from Arvarox in disguise, bring him here and I’ll have a man-to-man talk with him.”
“I can only imagine the kinds of rumors that are going to pop up all over the city,” I said with a sigh, looking at the policemen and the birds as they left the House by the Bridge. “We’re going to scare him off, that Mudlax. Or aren’t we?”
“Of course we are,” said Juffin. “But that’s exactly what we’re after. I want to scare him so that he panics, tries to flee the city, and lands right in the welcoming arms of his compatriots. That would be the easiest solution to the problem. Too easy, I should say. I don’t quite believe that this plan is going to work, but then again, who knows.”
“I see,” I said. “What do you want me to do?”
“You? How about some highly intellectual work? Go get something to eat,” said Juffin seriously.
“Oh, now that’s an important and difficult task,” I said. “I’m not even sure i
f I can manage on my own.”
Melifaro returned about four hours later, tired and vexed. By that time, Lonli-Lokli and I had managed to empty out half a dozen jugs of kamra, and discuss any and all philosophical problems that deserved an iota of attention. Sir Shurf apparently thought that was just as it should be, but I felt like a shirker and deserter.
“It’s always nice to see true professionals,” said Melifaro with venom in his voice. “The gentlemen killers are just biding their time, waiting for me to bring them their next victim. Such an idyllic scene.”
“Yeah, we don’t waste our time on trifles,” I said.
Lonli-Lokli ignored Melifaro’s grumbling altogether. He merely gazed out the window in deep concentration at the slowly darkening sky.
“I’m going to turn myself in to Juffin. Let him cut my head off,” said Melifaro, sighing. “I don’t know about the others, but I failed big time. Sure, the guys at Customs remember that fellow, but then what? He didn’t tell them where he was going to stay. And Melamori didn’t find so much as a hint of his trace there. No wonder, it’s been seventeen years, and many a horde of mad barbarians has gone through Customs in both directions since then. Now she’s feeling better, though. See, the lady’s taking that goggle-eyed gold standard of male beauty and his furry beast for a walk around the city. They stare at each other like kids looking at an ice cream stand. That’s all right, though. Someone’s gotta be happy in this World.”
The vehemence of Melifaro’s anger surprised me. Sir Juffin poked his head out of his office.
“Don’t be upset, son,” he said. “Frankly, I didn’t expect you to return with any good news. The policemen took long strolls with no results, either. The buriwoks didn’t see any Arvaroxians. They’re going to go through the whole rigmarole again tomorrow. By the way, does anyone have any idea where we should be looking?”
“Sir Kofa is usually full of ideas,” I said. “At least he should know everyone who specializes in disguise. Maybe we should begin with them?”
“Yes, I thought so, too,” said Juffin. “Kofa’s already on it. Maybe he’ll bring some good news. I sure hope he will. But it is strange, isn’t it? You’d think that finding a man from Arvarox in Echo should be easy as Chakatta Pie.”
Finally, everyone else went home to sleep, and Kurush and I stayed behind at Headquarters. I was fine with that because Melifaro was sleeping at my place again. He said he was in too foul a mood to enjoy the company of Rulen Bagdasys.
“I’m pretty sure I’d beat him up,” Melifaro confessed. “You know, when things don’t go well for me, I just don’t find certain things funny.”
At midnight I went out for a walk. My whole body hurt from sitting in the chair. For some time I just followed my nose. The multicolored stones of the mosaic sidewalks shimmered under my feet. The few passersby looked mysterious and attractive: the orange light cast by the street lamps wrapped their ordinary faces in a veil of enigma. The cold wind from the Xuron also took a walk down the narrow lanes of the Old City. The wind and I seemed to be taking the same route the whole way, but I liked its company. That night I liked pretty much everything. Unlike poor Melifaro, I was in a good mood, which was enough to make me wary.
My nose led me to the Victory of Gurig VII Square. I looked around, bewildered—how did I end up here?—and was going to turn around to sneak back into some cozy dark alley when I saw the silhouette of a tall man sitting at a table in a street café on the square. I took a closer look. But of course. It was none other than Aloxto Allirox. As far as I knew, there was no other man in Echo who had such beautiful white hair. Surprised, I decided to approach him. After all, it was only yesterday that Juffin had said we should be protecting our guests—unobtrusively—from possible trouble. As soon as I had taken a few steps toward him, I realized that the fellow was already under the protection of one of the employees of the Minor Secret Investigative Force. Lady Melamori’s tastes remained unchanged. I never understood why she liked this busy place so much.
I smiled and went back to the House by the Bridge. On my way there I desperately tried to get upset or, at least, surprised. No go. I had known from the beginning that it would end this way. As soon as I had seen Aloxto, I knew that my fair lady would soon “cheer up,” to borrow her own expression. Until now I just hadn’t thought of expressing this knowledge in words.
I smiled involuntarily at the thought that if I had been a girl, I would have . . . There was no need to deny it, that Aloxto was a true work of art! How far can this go? I wondered with a mixture of curiosity and indifference.
To be honest, I didn’t recognize myself. I should have been furious, cursing everything and everyone. This was what I would usually do in such situations. But recently I had undergone changes that were even more improbable.
Long story short, by the time I got back to the House by the Bridge, I was in a very good mood. Kurush got not one but three pastries. I think he was surprised at my generosity. Then again, you could never tell from his expression what was on the buriwok’s mind.
Sir Juffin returned early in the morning and was kind enough to let me go home and catch some sleep.
I returned to the House by the Bridge not long before dusk. The only person in the Hall of Common Labor was Lonli-Lokli. There was still no work for us to do. There were plenty of killers out there—two times fifty Sharptooths were eager to cut the throat of Mudlax, who had turned out to be not just “filthy” but also impossible to catch.
“Lady Tuotli and the buriwok that is accompanying her did manage to find one native of Arvarox,” said Shurf. “They are on their way here.”
“Excellent,” I said. “Finally, something in this case has budged. That Lady Tuotli has a ton of luck on top of her other virtues, huh?”
“Perhaps you are right,” said Lonli-Lokli and nodded. “Do you not find her . . . strange?”
“Well, I don’t know her very well. I just met her yesterday. At first I thought she had a terrible temperament, but then I realized she was just very shy. Funny, isn’t it?”
“Shy? I never would have thought that. What made you so sure?”
“I don’t know. I just sensed it. It seemed pretty clear to me.”
“Was it? Well, then, it’s not all that bad, if you are correct.”
“What’s not all that bad?” Now it was my turn to be surprised.
“I mean her ‘terrible temperament,’ as you said. That was a very good way of putting it.”
“Was she rude to you?” I said. “Uh-oh, what a woman!”
“She . . . Well, perhaps she was. You know, nobody has been rude to me for a long, long time, so at first I was quite puzzled.”
“You? Puzzled? I can’t believe it. I simply cannot believe it.”
“And yet I was.”
“Is Sir Hully in?”
The gray-eyed Amazon walked into the Hall of Common Labor with great determination. Following her was a large old man. Only his height and athletic body gave away his Arvaroxian origin. His face was quite inconspicuous. Any tavern in Echo is full of such faces at any hour of the day. The man was absolutely calm, and it was pleasant to look at him.
“He is. He’s expecting you,” I said affably.
The stern lady raised the corners of her mouth in an attempt to smile. She looked like she’d forgotten how.
Juffin’s Silent Speech put an end to our courtesies. Max, it’s great that you decided to show up after all. I was worried that you were going to fall asleep for another year. Come in with Kekki and her trophy. Just in case.
I turned to Shurf, somewhat shamefaced, and made a helpless gesture to show him I wasn’t leaving on my own accord. My silent apology was in vain. Shurf had already changed his expression to one of complete indifference and was buried in a thick book. I looked at the cover. Good golly! The magnum opus was called The Pendulum of Immortality. I shook my head in disbelief. Was the promising title a reflection of the author’s unsophisticated poetic tastes, or did he really intend to unveil
to the reader a trick or two about how to become immortal? One could expect either from the local literature, so I promised myself I’d browse through the book at my leisure.
After I finished musing about life, death, and literature, I followed Lady Tuotli and her prisoner to Juffin’s office. Right before I went in, I heard the familiar “O mighty buriwok” and the dull sound that a head makes when it meets the carpet. This was getting old. Fortunately, by the time I was in Juffin’s office, the Arvaroxian had already assumed the vertical position. Perhaps Kurush had taken care of it.
Lady Tuotli was already on her way out. I guess Juffin had decided her mission was over. The lady was desperately trying to demonstrate her complete lack of interest in further developments in the office. I really felt for her. How would you feel if you did your job and were dismissed immediately, never to learn what happened next?
“I am Naltix Ayemirik,” said the old man. “And I have not done anything worthy of mention.”
I shook my head in admiration. It was an art in its own right to speak of one’s worthlessness with such aplomb.
“And what sort of business made you leave Arvarox?” asked Juffin.
“I would rather not talk about my past,” said the old man calmly. “I give you my word of honor that I am not the one you are looking for. No one is looking for me, for no one deems it honorable to defeat one who has been deprived of his powers.”
“I’m sure that’s the case here,” said Juffin. “Okay, let’s not talk about your past. What I want to know is whether you knew King Mudlax.”
“I was his shaman many a year ago, until the powers left me.”
“This does happen,” said Kurush confidently. “Such mishaps happen as a matter of course, but the people of Arvarox believe them to be a great misfortune. A shaman whose powers have left him must go away to a distant land and take his curse with him, the farther the better. That is the law.”