Free The Fahrenheit Twins by Michel Faber Page B

she took to reach the video screen, delineated the curves of her backside in an evanescent shimmer of silk and shadow, hangs inscrutable. ‘In coconut,’ says Miss Soedhono, turning to face her audience once more, ‘the bleeding tissue is found at the extremities of the lateral branches of the inflorescence, close to the cut from which the juice flows. No doubt you are curious about anatomical differences between bleeding and normal branches. Yes, I can see you are curious. The differences can be seen here, side by side. Bleeding spikes experience a high incidence of clogged vessels. Look at the bleeding spikes, gentlemen. Nearly all the vessels are closed.’
    By now, throughout the audience, more and more men are giving in to the irresistible. The temperature in the room has risen to an unbearable level, and the ancient air conditioners begin to complain, bemoaning their futile labour with an irritating ‘ar-ar-ar’ sound. The oxygen has long since disappeared into the lungs of those assembled, and is being devoured in their blood; what remains of the atmosphere is dense with percolating aluminium chlorohydrate, alcohol, hydroxypropylcellulose, and the other ingredients of chemically deodorised armpit, as well as an excess of carbon dioxide and a miasma of pheromone.
    Miss Soedhono appears wholly unaffected; the satiny skin of her throat is free of any perspirous sheen, her forehead is smooth and unreflective, her soft black hair not in the least tacky. Since beginning her presentation she has shown no interest in the glass of water that stands on the table to her right, nor has she even licked her lips – those lips whose gloss is undiminished. She speaks for minute upon minute, never faltering, never hesitating for the correct word, never running out of breath even during sentences whose polysyllable count is in the dozens. Now she moves onto the topic of pollination, keeping her gaze level, making contact only with the imploring eyes of her audience, ignoring the agitation lower down.
    ‘The possible disadvantages of employing pollinating bags are these,’ she announces. ‘Use of damaged bags, or bags with large mesh that allow pollen, or mites carrying pollen, to pass through; not securely tying the mouth of the bag with the peduncle, thus keeping the bags open for longer durations during active female phase; and failure to emasculate properly. In dwarf coconuts, a small number of flowers are found to be bisexual, possessing both pistils and stamens. We conducted a random survey of two hundred Nias yellow dwarfs, and fifty-four of the palms were discovered to have at least one hermaphrodite flower, which means, as a rule of thumb, that twenty-seven per cent of Nias dwarf palms are polygamo-monoecious. You will appreciate the threat this poses to our breeding programme.’
    One of the men has begun to make a soft, rhythmic sound, but he is elbowed in the ribs by his neighbours on either side. If their passions can no longer be secret, let them at least be silent.
    ‘The problem,’ Miss Soedhono explains, ‘is that at the time of emasculation, most of the hermaphrodites escape detection and pass for female flowers. We breeders must be vigilant, and act before fertilisation occurs.’
    A birdlike flunkey dressed in a white Nehru jacket walks into the room, and carefully deposits two additional items on the table next to Miss Soedhono’s untouched glass of water. A murmur passes through the men, as they watch first the gleaming machete, then the massive, furry coconut, being laid side by side.
    ‘Each male,’ Miss Soedhono continues, as her assistant pads away, ‘each female, and each hermaphrodite flower, bears six perianth units or lobes. Everything you need to know, gentlemen, is governed by threes. The outer three whorls make up the calyx and the inner three the corolla. We also meet three kinds of aestivation within the coconut, where the members of unopened flowers just touch each other without