Not that he had ever stood in a library tree before.
But there was something familiar in it, an echo from childhood.
It was akin to the experience of a long, dull hardship in some joyless stretch of life’s journey, becoming numb with sameness, only to be ambushed by a patch of golden splendor and think,Oh, that’s right isn’t it, there is good to be found here as well as the trials we endure?Goodness so simple and potent it threatens you with a kind of headlong love for the world that seems a dangerous cousin to mania.
He pulled the hat from his head and turned in slow circles.
The books. The papers. The shelves full of natural odds and ends that each seemed to whisper an invitation. Green wandered theroom, fascinated. Here, a cat’s skull made of blue glass. There, a potted fern that rippled and swayed like an undersea grotto. A small bell jar over a speckled silver egg that hovered an inch above its shelf. A long-fingered glove that, upon closer inspection, appeared to be a seamless piece of cast-off skin with heart-shaped scales. Fifty such wonders alongside the orderly ranks of mismatched books.
“Is this where I’ll do my reading? My…cryptonaturalist studying?”
She smiled.
“It can get cold up here in the winter. I do not allow flame in this room, but there is a radiant heater wired into the solar batteries and electric lights. It was not built as a school but, yes, this is the most sensible place for your instruction. I also prefer reading materials to stay in this room, when possible. And I will ask you to humor an old tradition and call me Teacher.”
“Thank you. Teacher. Thank you.”
Valentina scrutinized Green’s face.
“Welcome to the profession I treasure. Please respect it in what ways seem best to you.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She walked over to a narrow walnut bookcase and patted it fondly.
“This shelf is your scholarly home for the present. It is general practices and fundamentals for the study of hidden nature.”
“Are we here to read about the rag moth?”
“A fair guess, but no. I know the existing literature on the rag moth. Perhaps I’ll show you some of the entries written in English later, but your observations last night constitute a new discovery worth sharing.”
“Sharing?”
“Oh, indeed. Like most worthy disciplines, our trade is the work of a community. Many minds exploring questions from many angles and diverse perspectives. We share data whenever possible. It is amazing the cooperation you can foster when you are not working toward selling something. Though…I won’t pretend we do not all have ourown egos and priorities. All that said, you, Mr. Green, have discovered something that, in the interest of scholarship and safety, should be known by cryptonaturalists globally. So, we will share it.”
Valentina reconsidered.
“Actually, you have discovered several things worth sharing.”
Green scanned the room for a computer. He found none.
“Share it…how? Do you have a satellite phone or something?”
She walked to an upholstered reading chair next to a small desk. She sat and placed Green’s notes on her lap. A hinged wooden box rested on the desktop. A brown cord ran from the box to the trunk of the oak, snaking down along valleys in the gray bark, then down below the floorboards.
“Hold out your hand, Mr. Green.”
Valentina opened a desk drawer and plucked out a large sugar cube. She placed it on Green’s open palm.
“For the network administrator. I suspect they are due a payment.”
“Uh. Okay…”
“When I begin the broadcast, just listen and observe. I will, of course, credit the work you have done, but we will keep you anonymous for now to shield you from the more…intense…personalities within the cryptonaturalist community. Agreed?”
He nodded, not at all certain to what he was agreeing.
Valentina opened the box. Inside was a copper panel with a mesh speaker, a dial, and a toggle switch. A single yellow bulb faded on and off at the pace of a sleeper’s breath. She checked the dial, then rested a finger on the switch.
