demon…»
«I think so.»
«And why would a demon do that? Theft.»
«How do I know?! They’re demons.»
«No assumptions?»
I sighed loudly.
«Well, to hurt Azuin, university, I mean: we don’t have the best neighborly relations with them. To get the power of the serpent… Damn them.»
«Okay, I get it. That’s all for today. If I need clarifications, you will be called additionally. Try not to leave town unless absolutely necessary,» he stared at the documents in front of him again, abruptly ceasing to pay any attention to me.
Silently rising, I took one last look at the card still facing me, with a small, shiny lacquered emerald-colored figure taken against a plain white wall. The dragon seemed to wink at me with its round yellow eye. I nodded goodbye and left the room.
Chapter 5
Mixing the substrate in the experimental greenhouse the next morning, I went back to the thoughts about stealing. It’s the main news of the semester, or even the year, especially if Azuin will not found.
A chill ran down my spine. If the dragon will not be returned, even more so if he’ll manage to release it from this insignificant shell… devil, what will happen then? How will the force react to such tremendous disturbances in its field? And what if the prisoner himself will be «out of sorts», to put it mildly?
We all take it for granted that the dragon closed itself in the sculpture voluntarily. But what if it’s not? What if it was locked up, forcibly imprisoned? Too many years have passed for the available information to be indisputable. In fact, I have always doubted the explanations offered. Why would a monster shut himself up, limit himself, if he was satisfied with everything then? We are told that we have «agreed» or «come to an agreement», but these are all just words. No paperwork for you. For example, there is no stone stele with runes of the treaty and claw marks (or whatever dragons sign).
On the other hand, I wasn’t so interested in the symbols of the university to study all the sources. Maybe there’s something somewhere.
And what if, after all, it was imprisoned?
Oh!
He is able to destroy half the country if anger freezes his eyes.
Stop! Stop. Dragons are wise, aren’t they? Wise. Even the drakens are said to be very pleasant conversationalists, thoughtful and thorough if they deign to condescend to ordinary mortals. So, dragons even more so. But did Azuin keep that wisdom in prison? Maybe he has dragon Alzheimer’s.
I giggled and shook my head: stupid thoughts. Wiping the sweat dripping from my forehead with my hand – agmarates grew only in a real steam room – I stepped away from the mixer. Then the substrate will go along the distribution conveyor without my control.
I looked around the greenhouse. It was a small space – well, compared to the industrial greenhouses that grow raw materials for sale. However, it contained everything that was needed for primary research: tabletop and hanging containers, mixers, pumps, conveyors, a complex irrigation system, fans and heaters, a brand new control panel, a bunch of sensors and racks with countless flasks, jars, test tubes, and so on, with which I conjured up new nutritional mixtures. In a separate cool room behind the wall there are several microscopes, a file cabinet, a refrigerator with samples, a computer (though without a holographic monitor, as in my office) and, most valuable, journals with all descriptions of experiments.
The results of the work were pleasing. We have been trying to get agmarates to increase the juiciness of their foliage for a year now. It’s simple: more juice – more essence. More essence means easier and cheaper teleporter operation, i.e. the journey itself. More travel, more connections. Development, the economy, and all that, yes.
In principle, there has been progress: we have raised the thickness of the sap-forming layer by thirty percent on average. However, this is only the first or second generation of plants. For breeding, it’s not much. Stable fixation of the trait is what we wanted. And the new greenhouses that will appear if my plan for the botanical garden works will contribute to this.
From the garden, thoughts strangely switched to Erchin. Ugh!
Should he have pinned me down there under the stairs like that?! At night I dreamed of all sorts of things…
Oh no, my professor, I’m going to put you out of my mind today.
The girls and I decided to go to the Dark World and have fun. There is no shortage of attractive and always ready men at Saul’s bar. Not that I’m planning anything far-reaching, but it doesn’t hurt to snuggle up with some handsome guy in a dark corner, huh?
***
After lunch in the cafeteria – my favorite meatballs, as always – I got back to paperwork. The disadvantage of a managerial position is a bunch of reports that are not directly related to my practical activities. And it all takes so long! However, I was helped a lot by Olischka, my deputy, my right hand and in general an irreplaceable person. The methodologists didn’t mess around either, though all four of them were a long way off her. But for a week now, I have more work to do, because she went to the capital, have been improving her skills, comprehending the science of managing complex social systems (it seems so). And then there’s all these limitations… so bad luck to him, a thief, I mean.
The display on the selector lit up, the red light flashed briefly, and the connection automatically turned on.
«Zulina, come to me, please,» the rector’s voice seemed to me somewhat slow. «In ten or fifteen minutes. I’m waiting.»
The machine shut down before I could answer. Tahoni didn’t wait for an answer, though. Would I object?
With the last changes in the report saved, I got up, took a quick look in the mirror by the door, making sure I didn’t look like a mess, and walked out of the office.
Exactly at the appointed time, I stood in front of a tall, narrow door, old and shabby, but still beautiful because of the carvings that covered it. An extremely delicate work, seemingly very fragile – all these leaves, twigs, feathers – but somehow preserved from the very foundation of the university.
After knocking and hearing a short invitation, I entered.
«Close the door, girl. The conversation is not for prying ears.»
Sir Archibald Tahoni, a sturdy man of about sixty, in his usual gray checkered suit, a crisp white shirt buttoned at the neck, and a brown sweater for a waistcoat, was seated, contrary to his custom, not at a huge oak table, but in an armchair by the fireplace. His hunched back and reddened eyes betrayed fatigue.
With a short gesture he invited me to join him for tea, immediately poured a cup from a clay teapot on the table and pushed it in my direction.
Sitting down in the chair across from him, I took a sip of a fragrant drink that smelled of the woods – Tahoni loved herbs – and leaned back on the high back. It’s both comfortable and impossible to relax at all.
He had been Azuin’s rector for nineteen years, and it was hard to imagine what could be otherwise. And today, for the first time, his sunken face made me think that one day someone would replace him. I even put down my tea, suddenly feeling an unusual uneasiness. Tahoni was always dear to me.
Well, not a relative, in the literal sense, it’s just that he had been friends with my parents for a long time, or rather, first of all, with my paternal aunt. He has been to family gatherings and stuff like that. In general,