Free Ghosts of Punktown by Jeffrey Thomas Page B

the caryatid as if Colores might have vandalized it somehow. “I was hoping his budget would be exhausted. Well, maybe it is...maybe he’s hoping to get it for a song. But then he’d know better, wouldn’t he? He knows her value.”
     
         “He did mention what a rare and important piece it is.”
     
         Mendeni turned to her again. “Can you tell me what the reserve price is?” This was a consignment’s minimum selling price, agreed upon with the consignor, the so-called “floor price” below which no bid would be accepted.
     
         “I’m sorry, but I can’t; the reserve price is a confidential matter between Jango and the seller. And I can’t reveal the seller to you, either, as he wishes to remain anonymous.”
     
         “You don’t have to,” Mendeni said. “He’s a Kalian businessman named Darik Stuul, who found himself in a lot of hot water with the controversy over Alvine Products and the crazy cult that was behind it, him being one of the owners and the cultists. He wants off Oasis and he’s had to sell off his very impressive collection.”
     
         “How do you know all that?”
     
         “I have some connections. I know about Richard Colores, too. He was appointed as Hill Way’s curator of antiquities recently, though he’s been with them for over ten years, and he wants to shake things up to put the spotlight on himself.”
     
         “He seemed to me to have an enthusiasm for your people’s history, and a desire to restore the facade of a temple for his museum.”
     
         “Restore?” Mendeni practically screeched. “He’s raped major archeological sites and broken up valuable collections to assemble displays like what he has in mind! He’d chop the head off Michelangelo’s David and put it on a rotating pole outside the museum’s front door if he thought that would increase ticket sales! I’m the one who wants to reconstruct a temple devoted to Lupool – in its entirety, and on its original site! Colores knows this all too well. If he had a true love of history he’d be supporting our project, but instead he’s been discrediting us to whoever will listen.”
     
         “It could just be that you actually want the same thing, to restore a valuable piece of history, but there’s only so much material to go around. Isn’t it just possible you resent his efforts because he’s not a native to your world?” Cynth regretted this speculation the moment it was uttered. Very unprofessional of her. But then, she excused herself as still being disturbed by Simon’s latest message.
     

 
         Mendeni drew in a long breath. “Did you ever see Hill Way’s art exhibit called ‘Through the Eyes of Raloom’? A lot of contemporary artists were invited to paint very iconoclastic, one might say very blasphemous images of Raloom. It was a nice bit of controversy that sold a good number of tickets. Well, Colores was the chief organizer of that exhibition. He has no love of history, Choom or otherwise, only of creating his own grand history.” In an increasingly shaky voice, Mendeni went on, “My paternal grandfather belonged to the Raloom faith; it was a tradition carried down for generations in our family, and it ended with him. If he had ever gone into that ‘Through the Eyes of Raloom’ exhibition...”
     
         “Look,” Cynth said in a soothing tone, “on the day of the auction, you’ll have your chance to bid on this statue, and it may well end up in your hands.”
     
         “Our budget doesn’t compare to Hill Way’s.”
     
         “You said yourself, their budget might not permit it at this point.”
     
         “Even if it didn’t,” Mendeni sulked, “some other rich monster like Darik Stuul will snatch her up.”
     
         Maybe it was the guilt, but Cynth actually felt herself sympathizing with the man. His emotion was real, and barely in check. “I was just on my way to lunch, Mr.