The Beetle in the Anthill (Rediscovered Classics) by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781641606783
Publisher: Chicago Review Press
Published: 2023-04-17T22:00:00+00:00

June 3, ’78

Maya Glumova Again

I really overdid it with the videophone volume. The instrument by my ear let out a melodious roar, much like the stranger in small-clothes in the midst of wooing Mrs. Nickleby. I shot out of my chair like a cannonball, fumbling to press the correct button to receive the incoming call.

Excellentz was calling. It was 7:03 AM.

“Time to get up,” he said fairly good-naturedly. “When I was your age, I never slept.”

I wonder how long I’ll have to keep hearing from him about my age? I’m already forty-five . . . And, by the way, he did plenty of sleeping at my age. And he’s no slouch at it now, either.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” I lied.

“Even better,” he said. “That means you can start working immediately. Find this Glumova. Find out the following from her. Has she seen Abalkin since yesterday? Did Abalkin talk to her about her work? If he did, what exactly was he interested in? Had he expressed an interest in seeing her at the museum? That’s all. No more and no less.”

I responded to this code phrase. “I must find out from Glumova whether she has seen him again, whether they talked about her work, and if it turns out they did, I must find out what he was interested in and whether he had expressed a wish to visit her at the museum.”

“Correct. You proposed changing the cover story. I don’t object. COMCON is looking for Progressor Abalkin in order to obtain information about a certain tragic accident. The investigation is related to a secret of identity and is thus being carried out in a clandestine fashion. I don’t object. Any questions?”

“I wish I knew what the museum had to do with anything . . .” I muttered under my breath.

“Did you say something?” inquired Excellentz.

“Let’s say that they didn’t talk about that damn museum. In that case, may I attempt to figure out what did happen between them during that first meeting?”

“Do you really care?”

“How about you?”

“I don’t, no.”

“It’s the strangest thing,” I said, looking off to the side. “We know what Abalkin wanted from me. We know what he wanted from Fedoseyev. But we have no idea what he was trying to do with Glumova.”

Excellentz said, “Fine. Figure it out. But only if it doesn’t get in the way of investigating the central questions. And don’t forget to wear a radio wristband. Put it on right now, so I can see.”

With a sigh, I took the wristband out of my desk drawer and put it on my left wrist. It felt tight.

“Very good,” said Excellentz, and hung up.

I headed to the shower. There were sounds of banging and clanging coming from the kitchen—Alena was operating the utilizer. I took a shower, then we had breakfast. Alena sat across from me, wearing my dressing gown and resembling a Chinese Buddha. She announced that she was supposed present a report today, and offered to read it to me for practice. I begged off, citing the circumstances.

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