Pirie Tamm laughed again, even more bitterly. “That is a joke. What can the Society offer to attract new members?”
“The ideas are as relevant now as they were a thousand years ago.'
“Theories! Murky ideals! Glorious talk! All meaningless when strength are will are gone. I am the society's last secretary and soon — like me — it will be no more than a memory.'
“I am sure that you are wrong,” said Wayness. “The Society needs new blood and new ideas.”
“I have heard such proposals before.” Pirie Tamm indicated a table across the room on which rested a pair of earthenware amphorae, formed of a ruddy orange body, banded with black slip. The ceramist had scratched though the slip to create representations of ancient Hellenic warriors engaged in combat. The urns were about two feet tall and in the opinion of Wayness, extremely beautiful.
“I had the pair for two thousand sols: a great bargain, assuming that they are genuine.”
“Hmm,” said Wayness. 'For a fact, they don’t look very old.”
“True and that is a suspicious circumstance. I had them from Adrian Moncurio, a professional tomb robber.
He agrees that they are well preserved.”
“Perhaps you should have them authenticated.”
Pirie Tamm looked dubiously toward the two urns. “Perhaps. It is an uncomfortable dilemma. Moncurio states that he took them from a secret site in Moldavia where by some miracle they had rested undisturbed for millennia. If so, the circumstances are irregular and I am harboring a pair of illegal and undocumented treasures. If they are fakes, I own a pair of legal, handsome and very expensive garden ornaments. Moncurio himself lacks all qualms and is probably off plying his trade at this very moment.”
“It would seem an adventurous occupation.'
“Moncurio is the man for it. He is strong, keen and quick and totally lacks scruples, which makes him difficult to deal with.'
'How is it, then, that he sold the amphorae so cheaply?”
Pirie Tamm again showed a dubious expression. “He was at one time a fellow of the Society, and spoke of rejoining.'
“Did he actually do so?'
“No. I feel that he lacked true Naturalist dedication. We agreed that the Society needed revitalization, even though, as he pointed out: ‘There is precious little to revive.’ And he added: ‘The Cadwal Charter and the Grant-in- Perpetuity are demonstrably secure, of course?' '
'What did you say to that?'
“I told him that we need not consider Cadwal at the moment, that all our best efforts must be devoted to repairing the Society here on Earth.”
'' ’First,’ said Moncurio, ‘you must alter the public image you now project, of a few tremulous octogenarians in musty clothes, dozing away the afternoons.’ ”
“I tried to remonstrate, but he went on: 'You must place yourselves squarely at the node of the general culture; you must set up a program of entertaining events which would capture the afternoon of the average man. These events might be somewhat peripheral to society goals, but they would generate enthusiasm.’ He spoke of such activities as dances, feasts of exotic dishes, recreations of dramatic adventures, contests and promotions to exploit the touristic potential of Cadwal.”
'I stated, somewhat stiffly, I fear, that his proposals failed to enhance either the short-or the long-term goals of the Society.”
' ‘Nonsense!' Moncurio declared. 'Further, you might organize a grand beauty pageant, with pretty girls recruited from as many worlds as possible. They would be named “Miss Naturalist-Earth' and “Miss Naturalist- Alcyone,' “Miss Naturalist-Lirwan' and so forth.' “
I rejected the proposal as tactfully as I could. “Such pageants are no longer considered chic.”
“Moncurio contradicted me again. ‘Not so! A well-turned ankle, a proper buttock, a graceful gesture, these will never be anything less than chic, so long as the Gaean Reach endures.' “
“I said wryly: 'For a man of your age and a tomb robber to boot, you are vehement in this regard.' ”
“Moncurio became indignant. 'Never forget: a beautiful girl is no less a part of Nature than a bottle-nosed blind worn from the caves of Procyon IX.' “
' ‘Your point is well-taken,’ I told him. 'Still, I suspect that the Society will plot out its future course in less tangential directions. Now then, if you wish to join, you may pay me fourteen sols and fill out the questionnaire.' “
' 'I have every intention of joining the Society,' said Moncurio. 'Indeed, this is why I am here. But I am a cautious man, and I wish to look over the accounts before I join. Will you be so good as to show me the ledgers, and also, most importantly, the Cadwal Charter and the Grant?' “
“ ‘That would be inconvenient,' I told him. 'These documents are customarily kept in a bank vault.' “
'' ‘I have heard rumors of depredation and embezzlement. I must insist upon seeing the Charter and the Grant before I join.' “
'' ‘Everything that needs doing is being done,' I told him. 'You must support the Society as a matter of principle, not because of an old paper or two.' “
'Moncurio said that he would take the matter under advisement, and so departed.”
Wayness said: 'It sounds to me as if he suspected that the Charter and Grant were gone.”
“I assumed that he had come upon items of the sequestered goods and this is still the most likely explanation.'
Pirie Tamm chuckled sadly. “A year ago when Moira and Challis were here with their husbands, I mentioned Moncurio and his notions for enlarging the Society. All four thought that Moncurio’s ideas were eminently sensible. Ah well, no matter.” Pirie Tamm fixed his gaze on Wayness, “What of you? Are you a member?”
Wayness shook her head. “At Stroma we call ourselves ‘Naturalists,' but it is just a name. I suppose we think of ourselves as honorary members.”
'Ha! No such category exists. You are a member when you apply and are accepted by the secretary and when you have paid your dues.”
“That is simple enough, ‘said Wayness. ”I now apply for membership. Am I accepted?'
“Certainly,” said Pirie Tamm. “You must pay the initiation fee and your dues in advance: a total of fourteen sols.”
“I will do so immediately after dinner, “said Wayness.
Pirie Tamm gave a gruff chuckle. “I am obliged to warn you that you that you are buying into an indigent organization. A secretary named Frons Nisfit sold everything he could lay his hands on, then took the money and disappeared. The Society now lacks both property and assets.'
“You have never tried to find the Charter?'
“Not seriously. The job seemed hopeless after so many years the trail is cold.'
“What of the Secretaries who came after Nisfit: they did nothing?'
Pirie Tamm gave a grunt of disgust. “Nils Myhack succeeded Nisfit, and held the office for forty years. I suspect that he never realized the documents were gone. Kelvin Kilduc was next in office, and I am almost certain that he was unaware of the loss. Kilduc never mentioned any doubt of the Charter's presence in the vault to me. On the other hand, I don’t believe he was a truly dedicated secretary.'
“So— if either secretary Myhack or secretary Kilduc tried to recover the Charter, you know nothing about it?”
'Nothing whatever.”
“Somewhere it must still exist. I wonder where.''
“There is no way of knowing. If I were wealthy, I might hire a trustworthy investigator and put him on the case.”
'It is an interesting idea,“ said Wayness. “Perhaps I shall look into the matter myself.”
Pirie Tamm frowned down the table. “You, a slip of a girl?'
'Why not? If I found the Charter and the Grant, you would be delighted!”
“That goes without saying, but the concept is extraordinary. Almost grotesque.”
'I can't see why.'
