The Tale of a Secretary, Chapter II: Introduction to a Diligent Task
Prerequisites:
Committee report
The Tale of a Secretary, Chapter I: Scenery of Salvation
South of the shady Lower Quarters lies the Docks, where sheds, warehouses and the worst kind of taverns make up the general composition of the hubbub. Throughout its alleys this part of the City features those who belong nowhere else: Smugglers, the overly zealous, the mentally deranged along with the rapists and the murderers.
If the Lower Quarters is a cauldron of misery, then the Docks is the fire that makes the stew boil. It is also here The Club has its headquarters.
Twixt ramshackle houses and a pub called The Brokeded Tower lays a seemingly abandoned warehouse of particular interest. Was it not for the bright green curtains, which, in fact, does little to hide the light shining from a naked bulb one might be inclined to think the place utterly deserted. In is, however, not empty…
Inside the large building Mr. Libel sat at the Table of Conversation, eyes weary from searching through the files spread out before him. The sight of the City was shut out by the new curtains. Even though Reed and Libel had inhabited this warehouse for quite some time, the office hadn’t seen any of those until very recently. There were also some plants haphazardly placed along one naked wall. If there was a system to their positions, some underlying plan, it was lost on Libel.
“Bad feng shui, indeed…”, Libel muttered under his breath.
A homely clattering of dishes was heard from the now rather clean kitchenette and the smell of fresh coffee spread through the air. At least that hadn’t changed.
Libel cursed softly as he stretched his arms above his head to ward off the stiffness. Where the hell was Reed? Libel bent down over the table again and started to move papers randomly from one pile to another. His gaze kept returning to the plants.
“Feng shui!”, he sneezed.
“God bless you”, the reply came from the door. Amanda was standing there in her maid’s clothes that she had received in a parcel for her birthday by an anonymous well doer.
“He has tendency to do that, yes”. Libel said off-handedly and threw a glance at Amanda. She was holding a tray with three filled mugs. The contents of one of them was murky white, the other two pitch black.
Good. No milk, Libel thought.
“Where’s John?”, Amanda asked.
“Busy, apparently”.
“Oh, well, he’s not one to miss his coffee. He’ll be here soon”, she said cheerily.
“He’s not too squeamish about drinking it cold either”, Libel sourly replied.
“I’m not?”, a hooded figure remarked.
Amanda jolted by the sudden appearance and almost dropped the precious brewages. Libel sat impassively.
“You’re late”, he said.
“The Elders were fretting about this new thing that corrupts our City’s youth. The Internets, I believe it was. They don’t like it.”
“Big surprise, John. Name one thing they like that they, themselves, did not invent”.
Reed pondered this for a moment and then shrugged.
“I think things will cool down once they realize the potential of these Internets. This new phenomenon ought to have some purpose”.
This was met by solemn silence. After a moment of consideration Libel nodded and motioned for Reed to sit down with a subtle gesture of his hand.
Amanda served the coffee.
“Ah, I notice the absence of milk in two of the cups”. Reed shot a smile in Amanda’s direction. “’tis good”.
“’tis, indeed”, Libel agreed and drank the coffee.
***
In another, much nicer part of town a meeting was held. Since one cannot trust appearances, it would be unwise to speculate as to what they were. However, regardless of what delusions one can have about the origins of species, there was no doubt about the purpose of the gathering. The foul air in the library where the five men sat in expensive armchairs reeked of sinister plans and secret gambits. If there ever were conspirators, this was them. They were old as the world itself and full of evil.
“She is strong when she is with them. We cannot let them influence her”, the first man said.
“Yes, she is too important”, stated the second.
The third was silent, for such was his ways.
The fourth said: “I know how we can make them cast her out”. With a dry voice he then told them what he had in mind.
And the fifth man smiled.
***
“No, Amanda. I don’t care to listen to my horoscope”, Reed said, looking up from his newspaper. Would this woman never let him have a moment of peace? All day she had been going on about what she’d read in her infantile tabloids: Who had done what with whom and who had carried out a coup against what silly establishment. And not to forget: Who had become what with which people by means of what passed for clever wits these days.
“Oh, please. Be quiet”, Reed said. “I need to concentrate. They hide their coded messages together with the regular articles, you see. I must try to find the hidden meaning”.
“Oh...”, Amanda said curiously. “Who hides it?”.
“They”, Reed replied matter-of-factly.
“Yes, but who are they?”.
“You know… the-ey. Them… The ones who steals all the cookies”.
Amanda looked confused. Granted, she was always confused to a certain degree, but now she was truly baffled. As various states of bewilderment played across her face, her glassy-eyed stare darted across the room. It came to rest on the lilies and daffodils she had so neatly arranged along the empty wall yesterday. A firm point of reality, at last. Something she was familiar with. Something she knew. Her glazed complexion left her as she took off again.
“What do you think about the flowers?”, she asked slyly, relieved to find safe ground.
Reed, who had not paid them much attention – barely registered their presence, to be honest – shrugged.
“They’re nice, in a flowery kind of way very common to most plants.”
“Yes… but can’t you feel how the flows of energy are different? More… powerful. I placed them where they would maximize the chi from the fire element. That affects the love-life [1], you see. Oh, and I also put this figurine in the bathroom. That’s your ‘rich corner’, if you didn’t know. Which you probably didn’t.”, she added. A brief pause and then she smiled tentatively. “We must be very careful to keep the lid closed so the energy – and the money! – won’t literary go down the drain [2]!”. Amanda chuckled at her own joke.
A weary thud was heard as Reed’s head pounded down on the table.
[1] No, I did not waste effort to check the ‘proper’ facts. I chose that at random, just like the professional feng shui gurus.
[2]That one I did look up (Swedish).
Committee report
The Tale of a Secretary, Chapter I: Scenery of Salvation
South of the shady Lower Quarters lies the Docks, where sheds, warehouses and the worst kind of taverns make up the general composition of the hubbub. Throughout its alleys this part of the City features those who belong nowhere else: Smugglers, the overly zealous, the mentally deranged along with the rapists and the murderers.
If the Lower Quarters is a cauldron of misery, then the Docks is the fire that makes the stew boil. It is also here The Club has its headquarters.
Twixt ramshackle houses and a pub called The Brokeded Tower lays a seemingly abandoned warehouse of particular interest. Was it not for the bright green curtains, which, in fact, does little to hide the light shining from a naked bulb one might be inclined to think the place utterly deserted. In is, however, not empty…
Inside the large building Mr. Libel sat at the Table of Conversation, eyes weary from searching through the files spread out before him. The sight of the City was shut out by the new curtains. Even though Reed and Libel had inhabited this warehouse for quite some time, the office hadn’t seen any of those until very recently. There were also some plants haphazardly placed along one naked wall. If there was a system to their positions, some underlying plan, it was lost on Libel.
“Bad feng shui, indeed…”, Libel muttered under his breath.
A homely clattering of dishes was heard from the now rather clean kitchenette and the smell of fresh coffee spread through the air. At least that hadn’t changed.
Libel cursed softly as he stretched his arms above his head to ward off the stiffness. Where the hell was Reed? Libel bent down over the table again and started to move papers randomly from one pile to another. His gaze kept returning to the plants.
“Feng shui!”, he sneezed.
“God bless you”, the reply came from the door. Amanda was standing there in her maid’s clothes that she had received in a parcel for her birthday by an anonymous well doer.
“He has tendency to do that, yes”. Libel said off-handedly and threw a glance at Amanda. She was holding a tray with three filled mugs. The contents of one of them was murky white, the other two pitch black.
Good. No milk, Libel thought.
“Where’s John?”, Amanda asked.
“Busy, apparently”.
“Oh, well, he’s not one to miss his coffee. He’ll be here soon”, she said cheerily.
“He’s not too squeamish about drinking it cold either”, Libel sourly replied.
“I’m not?”, a hooded figure remarked.
Amanda jolted by the sudden appearance and almost dropped the precious brewages. Libel sat impassively.
“You’re late”, he said.
“The Elders were fretting about this new thing that corrupts our City’s youth. The Internets, I believe it was. They don’t like it.”
“Big surprise, John. Name one thing they like that they, themselves, did not invent”.
Reed pondered this for a moment and then shrugged.
“I think things will cool down once they realize the potential of these Internets. This new phenomenon ought to have some purpose”.
This was met by solemn silence. After a moment of consideration Libel nodded and motioned for Reed to sit down with a subtle gesture of his hand.
Amanda served the coffee.
“Ah, I notice the absence of milk in two of the cups”. Reed shot a smile in Amanda’s direction. “’tis good”.
“’tis, indeed”, Libel agreed and drank the coffee.
In another, much nicer part of town a meeting was held. Since one cannot trust appearances, it would be unwise to speculate as to what they were. However, regardless of what delusions one can have about the origins of species, there was no doubt about the purpose of the gathering. The foul air in the library where the five men sat in expensive armchairs reeked of sinister plans and secret gambits. If there ever were conspirators, this was them. They were old as the world itself and full of evil.
“She is strong when she is with them. We cannot let them influence her”, the first man said.
“Yes, she is too important”, stated the second.
The third was silent, for such was his ways.
The fourth said: “I know how we can make them cast her out”. With a dry voice he then told them what he had in mind.
And the fifth man smiled.
“No, Amanda. I don’t care to listen to my horoscope”, Reed said, looking up from his newspaper. Would this woman never let him have a moment of peace? All day she had been going on about what she’d read in her infantile tabloids: Who had done what with whom and who had carried out a coup against what silly establishment. And not to forget: Who had become what with which people by means of what passed for clever wits these days.
“Oh, please. Be quiet”, Reed said. “I need to concentrate. They hide their coded messages together with the regular articles, you see. I must try to find the hidden meaning”.
“Oh...”, Amanda said curiously. “Who hides it?”.
“They”, Reed replied matter-of-factly.
“Yes, but who are they?”.
“You know… the-ey. Them… The ones who steals all the cookies”.
Amanda looked confused. Granted, she was always confused to a certain degree, but now she was truly baffled. As various states of bewilderment played across her face, her glassy-eyed stare darted across the room. It came to rest on the lilies and daffodils she had so neatly arranged along the empty wall yesterday. A firm point of reality, at last. Something she was familiar with. Something she knew. Her glazed complexion left her as she took off again.
“What do you think about the flowers?”, she asked slyly, relieved to find safe ground.
Reed, who had not paid them much attention – barely registered their presence, to be honest – shrugged.
“They’re nice, in a flowery kind of way very common to most plants.”
“Yes… but can’t you feel how the flows of energy are different? More… powerful. I placed them where they would maximize the chi from the fire element. That affects the love-life [1], you see. Oh, and I also put this figurine in the bathroom. That’s your ‘rich corner’, if you didn’t know. Which you probably didn’t.”, she added. A brief pause and then she smiled tentatively. “We must be very careful to keep the lid closed so the energy – and the money! – won’t literary go down the drain [2]!”. Amanda chuckled at her own joke.
A weary thud was heard as Reed’s head pounded down on the table.
[1] No, I did not waste effort to check the ‘proper’ facts. I chose that at random, just like the professional feng shui gurus.
[2]That one I did look up (Swedish).
posted by J.P. Reed at 02:06
4 Comments:
That silent guy is giving me the creeps... We ought to launch a deeper investigation of these matters in a close future. Who knows what they are up to?
Yes, the plot thickens.
I've been contacted by a large generic movie studio, by the way. They seemed rather interested in the story. I, of course, declined their offer of great economical wealth to protect our artistic interests. But I told them that we might reconsider if they'd let Scarlett Johansson, Charlize Theron and Kate Beckinsale play our sidekicks in chainmail and battle bikinis.
I agree. Black coffee is good stuff. Especially if it is French Vanilla flavored...
My lady hath good taste. Most impressive.
Post a Comment
<< Home