The Stranger - Max Frei [105]
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.
In Echo, however, chance encounters are another matter altogether.
Visitors to the Quarter of Trysts fall into two categories: the Seekers and the Waiters. Every person decides for herself or himself which category to join that day. On one side of the Quarter one finds houses of male Seekers and female Waiters; on the other side are female Seekers and male Waiters. There are no signboards. Everyone knows where to go and why.
Upon entering the appropriate house, every Seeker must take part in a curious kind of lottery and pull a token out of a vase. By the way, there are also blank tokens. They signify that on that particular day fate is preventing you from having an amorous encounter with anyone whatsoever. In that event there is nothing to do but turn around and go home. Theoretically,