Memoranda by Jeffrey Ford Page B

Sometimes when the specimens arrive, they complain of lightheadedness,” he said. His suit was wrinkled where it wasn’t stretched by his obesity. The watery eyes, the weary measure of his speech told me he had already had quite a few sips from the dark pint bottle he held.
    â€œI’m fine,” I lied, as the third man handed me a drink.
    â€œNunnly,” he said, pulling out the chair that sat between the doctor and himself. “Good of you to come.”
    I sat down warily at the table and took a sip. The instant I brought the glass to my mouth, I smelled the warm floral scent of Rose Ear Sweet. It was the first taste of it I’d had in years, and it flooded my senses.
    â€œRose Ear Sweet,” I said aloud, not meaning to.
    â€œHave as much as you like,” said Nunnly, pushing the bottle closer to me.
    I took another drink, and Anotine said, “Where are you from, Cley?” She moved her dark hair behind her ears and leaned back in the chair, folding her arms.
    â€œWenau,” I said.
    â€œNever heard of it,” said Doctor Hellman, and the others agreed.
    â€œYou’ll be helping me with my discoveries,” she said. “Occasionally, your duties will include assisting the gentlemen here in their own pursuits. The term of your service is one year. Do you have any questions?”
    â€œIs it common for people to simply appear before you?” I asked.
    They smiled and looked at each other.
    â€œHow else?” said Nunnly. “When one of us orders a specimen, like yourself, the subject usually coalesces in that chair over there.”
    The aplomb with which my strange entrance was greeted silenced me. I worked on my drink as well as my composure while the others continued with their discussion. The Sweet was just what I needed to calm myself. “Now, if I only had a cigarette,” I thought, “things might almost be tolerable.” My mind was still swimming upstream through the implications of my meeting with Bataldo amidst the mounds of the Palishize. The conversation of my hosts seemed intriguing and serious, but when I tried to follow it, my head began to throb. I let their words pass over me.
    At one point, after my third Sweet, I came to my senses and heard Anotine say, “It’s all in the moment.”
    â€œNo,” said Doctor Hellman. “In the memory of the moment.”
    Brisden cleared his throat and cut in on the doctor. “The present is a doorway—a randomly located aperture assigned its location by ourselves, arbitrarily, contradicting the totality of the void.”
    By some sleight of hand, Nunnly lit a cigarette without my noticing. “The three of you,” he said, “your words are like the mechanisms I design—purposeless. Your theories are desperately searching for a reason to exist. And Brisden, someday I’ll have a vague clue as to what you are getting at. My god, your drivel is a crime against humanity.”
    They laughed, Brisden hardest of all.
    â€œWell, let’s not let it ruin the day,” said Doctor Hellman, pushing his chair back and rising.
    They all stood and I followed their lead. Each of the men stepped up and shook my hand. I was not sure if it was a good thing that I did not pass through them. “Good night,” they said as they left.
    Anotine turned to me, and said, “Come, Cley, it’s late. There is a lot to do in the morning.” We followed the men down a corridor lined with arched window openings that led to a terrace. Once there, in the moonlight, they all went off in different directions.
    I followed like a shadow behind Anotine, weaving somewhat from the effects of the Rose Ear Sweet. It felt good to be outside. The air was clear and filled with the mixing scents of various night blossoms that grew everywhere from planters built directly into the architecture.
    We went down a wide stairway to another level, then turned left and passed an open-air hall