The Imposition of Unnecessary Obstacles by Malka Older

Author:Malka Older [Older, Malka]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Verilo Road was not quite the heave of Valdegeld’s club and theater district, but nor was it too far, a quick walk to Sessiranaib Avenue but even closer to Valdegeld’s third and smallest railcar station, with just a touch of its seediness. The Cat Club overlooked the street from its somewhat bulbous, tall building, rather awkwardly caught between hewing to the tradition that was, really, its only claim to eliteness, while not falling too far out of date. In that, of course, it was much like all the clubs; the Cat had something of an advantage in that it had always had the role of the outsider to a certain extent: the club that laughed quietly in its sleeve about all the other clubs and even just a little about itself. Still, in my circles at least the joke felt a bit stale, and I had never before visited the place.

The foyer was from an era when it had been popular to mimic the even older practice of building residences that doubled as escape pods, and it had that conical, compact look to it, although I was fairly certain it did not actually have the capacity for liftoff. There was a dim sort of smell to the air, as though they didn’t clean often enough, which I supposed wasn’t surprising. There were plenty of people who would clean up after university students, for an ample consideration; very few, however, were willing to clean up after them and treat them as superiors. Most positions in the student clubs were therefore, as I understood it, either held by the students themselves on a rotating basis or by alums.

(This was not true of all of them; contrary to commonly accepted belief, there are enough non-students in Valdegeld for some non-student institutions to thrive. I myself harbored hopes of someday joining the Hecuba Club, whose membership was preponderantly adult and interested in the theater: a place to be in company with other aficionados and in particular to dine before shows, since its restaurant was carefully calibrated to perfect the logistics of eating at leisure without missing curtain time.)

The young man at the Cat Club reception, however, was clearly a student, and blanched when I asked about Strevan. “Oh, radiation, are you his tutor? Because whatever he’s done, I’m sure it’s just a jaunt, no need to get all serious about it.”

“Is he here then?” I asked, without much hope.

“Possibly?” the boy equivocated, drawing out the vowels improbably. “He has a room he uses here sometimes, I don’t know if he’s in…” He trailed off at my startled gape.

“Let’s have a look,” I said, recovering myself enough to hold out my hand with the combination of imperiousness and camaraderie typical of young tutors who don’t wish to be hated: a bit of authority, but also one of you.

“Well, I … shouldn’t…” His eyes darted about the room as though looking for an escape; if there had been an ejectable pod, I felt sure he would have triggered it.

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