and we'll have a nice dinner, okay?"
Mel agreed and limped off.
By the time Jane found the meeting room where the debate was going on, it was over. Applause spilled out into the hallway as she approached. The door was flung open and Doris Schmidtheiser plunged out, her movements jerky, her big angular face red and working with emotion. Though Jane tried to dodge her, they collided. Papers and folders flew everywhere.
Jane knelt to help Doris pick them up. The older woman muttered tearfully, "I'm sorry. I wasn't looking…"
"Quite all right. But I'm afraid you're going to have a time sorting this all out—"
But Doris wasn't listening. She'd grabbed an armload of papers, hoisted herself up and was practically running away.
Jane picked up the rest of the papers, tamped them down, and slipped them into an accordian-type folder Doris had dropped. She'd get them to her later, when Doris had calmed down. Jane peeked into the doorway and spotted Shelley. She waved a greeting and then got out of the emerging audience's way.
"What a rout," Shelley whispered when she joined Jane in the hallway.
"Mrs. Schmidtheiser ran into me as she came out. She was really upset," Jane said. "What in the world happened in there?"
"Let's go have a glass of wine by the pool," Shelley suggested.
When they were comfortably settled with tall tulip glasses of white wine, Shelley said, "I don't know exactly what happened. Most of the debate was like a foreign language to me. All sorts of sources were flung around. The genealogists, of course, knew the relative merits of them. I didn't have a clue. But it was apparent that Gortner got the best of poor old Doris at every turn. I don't think it was that he had a better case—although I could be wrong—but that he had a more scathing manner and presentation. You know—the kind of thing where you don't present your own side as much as you make fun of everything the other guy says."
Jane nodded. "The kind of thing kids are great at."
"Exactly. It was like watching a pretentiously clever teenager make fun of somebody. It was pathetic. Doris would trot out some document and flash it on the overhead projection screen and go on in a deadly manner for a while. Then Gortner would make some slick, dismissive comment like, "Surely you're not suggesting that this qualifies as a primary source… ?" And the audience would laugh."
"Of course they would," Jane said. "That's a line that always brings the house down."
Shelley shrugged elaborately. "I don't explain 'em, I just report 'em. I have no idea what's funny about that. It was hideous. Poor old Doris. Not that she didn't manage to get in a few slugs of her own."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, sort of loony, dark allusions to 'enemies within' and that sort of thing. Suggestions that others in the Holnagrad Society weren't all they should be in regard to both the purity of their research and the respect owed her. I got the feeling she was taking digs at Lucky—Dr. Lucke. But I can't be sure. There might be another entire 'party' of people in this thing. Still, her venom was like nothing compared to Gortner's."
"I feel sorry for her, too, but when you promote a bizarre idea you've got to count on a certain amount of flak. And she set this up herself. It's not as if she walked into it as innocently as a lost lamb. Speaking of lost lambs, where are all of ours?"
Shelley looked at her strangely for a moment, then gestured to the pool. "Those two water rats are our sons, and the glamour girls showing off across the way are our daughters. Did you think I chose to sit around the pool because I
like
what humid, chlorine-stinking air does to my hair?"
Jane laughed. "I hadn't even noticed them. Shelley! Don't you see what this means? It's the first hint I've ever had that motherhood is a curable condition!"
Chapter 7
"Oh, I asked Paul about the deed thing," Shelley said.
"Deed thing?"
"Remember? Tenny said something about HawkHunter wanting Mr. Smith to give the
Mel agreed and limped off.
By the time Jane found the meeting room where the debate was going on, it was over. Applause spilled out into the hallway as she approached. The door was flung open and Doris Schmidtheiser plunged out, her movements jerky, her big angular face red and working with emotion. Though Jane tried to dodge her, they collided. Papers and folders flew everywhere.
Jane knelt to help Doris pick them up. The older woman muttered tearfully, "I'm sorry. I wasn't looking…"
"Quite all right. But I'm afraid you're going to have a time sorting this all out—"
But Doris wasn't listening. She'd grabbed an armload of papers, hoisted herself up and was practically running away.
Jane picked up the rest of the papers, tamped them down, and slipped them into an accordian-type folder Doris had dropped. She'd get them to her later, when Doris had calmed down. Jane peeked into the doorway and spotted Shelley. She waved a greeting and then got out of the emerging audience's way.
"What a rout," Shelley whispered when she joined Jane in the hallway.
"Mrs. Schmidtheiser ran into me as she came out. She was really upset," Jane said. "What in the world happened in there?"
"Let's go have a glass of wine by the pool," Shelley suggested.
When they were comfortably settled with tall tulip glasses of white wine, Shelley said, "I don't know exactly what happened. Most of the debate was like a foreign language to me. All sorts of sources were flung around. The genealogists, of course, knew the relative merits of them. I didn't have a clue. But it was apparent that Gortner got the best of poor old Doris at every turn. I don't think it was that he had a better case—although I could be wrong—but that he had a more scathing manner and presentation. You know—the kind of thing where you don't present your own side as much as you make fun of everything the other guy says."
Jane nodded. "The kind of thing kids are great at."
"Exactly. It was like watching a pretentiously clever teenager make fun of somebody. It was pathetic. Doris would trot out some document and flash it on the overhead projection screen and go on in a deadly manner for a while. Then Gortner would make some slick, dismissive comment like, "Surely you're not suggesting that this qualifies as a primary source… ?" And the audience would laugh."
"Of course they would," Jane said. "That's a line that always brings the house down."
Shelley shrugged elaborately. "I don't explain 'em, I just report 'em. I have no idea what's funny about that. It was hideous. Poor old Doris. Not that she didn't manage to get in a few slugs of her own."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, sort of loony, dark allusions to 'enemies within' and that sort of thing. Suggestions that others in the Holnagrad Society weren't all they should be in regard to both the purity of their research and the respect owed her. I got the feeling she was taking digs at Lucky—Dr. Lucke. But I can't be sure. There might be another entire 'party' of people in this thing. Still, her venom was like nothing compared to Gortner's."
"I feel sorry for her, too, but when you promote a bizarre idea you've got to count on a certain amount of flak. And she set this up herself. It's not as if she walked into it as innocently as a lost lamb. Speaking of lost lambs, where are all of ours?"
Shelley looked at her strangely for a moment, then gestured to the pool. "Those two water rats are our sons, and the glamour girls showing off across the way are our daughters. Did you think I chose to sit around the pool because I
like
what humid, chlorine-stinking air does to my hair?"
Jane laughed. "I hadn't even noticed them. Shelley! Don't you see what this means? It's the first hint I've ever had that motherhood is a curable condition!"
Chapter 7
"Oh, I asked Paul about the deed thing," Shelley said.
"Deed thing?"
"Remember? Tenny said something about HawkHunter wanting Mr. Smith to give the
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