Макс Фрай - The Stranger

“Don’t worry,” said Juffin. “The old gal was interrogating you with the best of intentions—according to her own lights. If you had betrayed any sign of suffering, she would immediately have stopped. And she would have been completely happy. You see, for Melamori, her dangerous gift is a question of honor and fate. It’s the only thing she really has. Don’t worry. All our boys have had to undergo the same torments. Even I did—at the very start of my career, the lady decided to find out what kind of fish or fowl it was ordering her around.”

“I can only imagine the blow she got.”

“No, it wasn’t so bad. For her benefit I demonstrated my ‘Primary Shield’—though I could really have lost my temper. I have to hand it to her—the girl came to her senses in under an hour. She’s a fine damsel, that Melamori.”

“What is this ‘Primary Shield’?” I asked. “Is it something you can teach me?”

“The ‘Primary Shield’ is a poetic name for my own kind of Secret Weapon, Max. ‘Primary’ means it’s the least dangerous for my opponent. What can I teach you? You’ve got stronger shields than any person in this World. Stronger than I dared hope. And you’ll gradually learn to use them, but only through experience. Don’t sell yourself short. You just lack the terminology.”

“What a formidable character that Lady Melamori has turned out to be,” I sighed, pouring myself a comforting portion of kamra. “Such potent gifts at her disposal, yet she behaves like a little child.”

“Are you angry with her, Max? Don’t be. It’s not worth it. The poor thing is already moping around as it is.”

“No, I’m not mad. Just bemoaning my broken heart.”

“I warned you from the start that choosing her as a sweetheart wasn’t a very wise move. Does it never occur to you to listen to your elders, Sir Max?”

I sighed and cut myself a second slice of the Glutton Pie. I’m a callous human being. No broken heart can spoil my appetite—it’s been proven time and again.

“You don’t have anything to add regarding this incident except the sad story of your broken heart?” Juffin asked when we had polished off the pie.

“I don’t know. Actually, I should be asking you. How can it be that I don’t feel anything? Strange things are afoot.It seems that if I commit some crime, I can just calmly flee the scene. I’m a dangerous guy.”

“Yes, much more dangerous than many,” Juffin observed with a satisfied air. He looked like an artist whose hands had just put the finishing touches on a masterpiece.

“It’s all so strange. When I lived at home, I didn’t notice any miraculous inclinations in myself at all. I was as ordinary as the next person. I had peculiar dreams, but that was a personal matter. Maybe others dream the same way, but they just don’t talk about it? But as soon as I end up here, some novelty or other surfaces every day. Maybe you should just cut me in half to find out what’s inside!”

“Excellent idea, Sir Max. But you aren’t as invulnerable as all that. You’ve got your limits. Remember what happened to you in the Old Thorn ?”

“The place that funny lanky fellow runs? What’s his name—Chemparkaroke.” I smiled, feeling a bit sheepish.

What happened there wasn’t an achievement I wanted to recall. Juffin had taken me to the Old Thorn when I was still waiting for my appointment to the service. He decided that I just had to try the Soup of Repose, a dish favored by all citizens of the Unified Kingdom.

As far as I understood it, this soup had a light narcotic effect, so harmless and pleasant that the whole family was accustomed to partaking of it, even the littlest tykes.

For that reason I plunged into the psychedelic adventure with no trepidation at all, although my whole life I had felt a cowardly antipathy toward drugs and drug users. My smattering of experience in this area was acquired, of course, in the last years of high school, and was so unsuccessful that rather than developing a habit, I developed a phobia.

I really fell face-first into the Soup of Repose. All my foreignness, which I simply forget about from time to time, came to the surface as soon as I had finished slurping up the first serving. Juffin suddenly found himself in the company of a blithering idiot, giggling over his empty bowl in a fit of hilarity. For me it wasn’t the most pleasant experience, either. In an instant I had become a hallucinating nutcase with compromised coordination. The respectable habitués of the Old Thorn , I imagine, were shocked by my behavior.

After this incident followed twenty-four hours of agony, as though I had stopped taking drugs after twenty years of rampant indulgence—and that despite the qualified medical help of Sir Juffin Hully. But even his healing arts were in vain. I had to endure it.

After I recovered, I vowed to make an enormous detour—of at least twelve blocks—around the Old Thorn .

Juffin approved of my decision and solemnly vowed not to indulge in Soup of Repose in my presence.

“Just don’t tell anyone that I can come undone merely by eating that soup. Someone might pour some into my kamra just to see the effect it has on me.”

“What are you saying, Max! That’s an attempt to poison a high-ranking government official—exactly the sort of crime that falls under our jurisdiction. Anyway, I think I’ll go home. And you try to be kind to Lady Melamori tomorrow. Our Lady is quite beside herself. After this little drama I think she’ll have to refrain from working for a few days. In our line of work, self-confidence is as necessary as the air we breathe, and every setback can mean the loss of one’s gift.”

“You don’t have to ask, Juffin. I’ll be nice to her. And not because . . . but because . . . well, never mind. Just don’t worry about a thing. If I had known what was happening, I could have complained to her about being in a bad mood right off—I wouldn’t have minded. And everything would have turned out fine.” “Don’t grieve, Max. Just think about how many wonderful things there are in the World! That’s an assignment. See you tomorrow.”

And Sir Juffin hurried out, to where the faithful Kimpa was already waiting for him in the amobiler.

The chief was absolutely right. The World is full of wonderful things. It was best to acknowledge the wisdom of what Sir Juffin Hully said. It was best to relax, stop sniveling, and start a new life—with a visit to the Quarter of Trysts.

This, by the way, is what the majority of lonely ladies and gentlemen do in Echo. And there is no shortage of them. Marriage in the Unified Kingdom is something people embark upon in their mature years—and not everyone decides to get married even then. It isn’t customary here to consider a family to be an unmitigated boon, and a lonely old age synonymous with failure in life. No one tries to claim the contrary either, though. Public opinion is simply silent on the matter, allowing everyone to arrange one’s affairs as one sees fit.

I had quite recently received a detailed briefing about the Quarter of Trysts from Melifaro, who fairly took me to task for being so ill-informed. You may be a barbarian, he said, but that doesn’t excuse you from knowing something so basic.

This aspect of local custom was completely unexpected for me. Despite my almost panicky desire to embark on some sort of “private life” I wasn’t sure I was ready to visit the Quarter of Trysts.

Let me explain. When you are returning home from a party in the company of a girl you don’t know very well, and you both realize where things are headed—well, it doesn’t always look like the Great Amorous Adventure that you dreamed of in childhood, but the scenario is simple and predictable. Everything happens by mutual consent. Two grown people make a more or less conscious decision. For one night, or longer—the ensuing sexual experiences of a new combinations of bodies will show.