The Windup Girl(41)

Otto looks interested. "Anything salvageable?"

Lucy gives him a look of disgust. "It's ivory beetle, you idiot. No one around here wants that."

Anderson asks, "You say the monastery invited you up? Even though you're a Grahamite?"

"Phra Kritipong is enlightened enough to know that neither Jesus Christ nor the Niche Teachings are anathema to his kind. Buddhist and Grahamite values overlap in many areas. Noah and the martyr Phra Seub are entirely complementary figures."

Anderson stifles a laugh. "If your monk saw how Grahamites operate back home, he might see it differently."

Hagg looks offended. "I am not some preacher of field burnings. I am a scientist."

"Didn't mean any offense." Anderson pulls out a ngaw, offers it to Hagg. "This might interest you. We just found them in the market."

Hagg eyes the ngaw, surprised. "The market? Which one?"

"All over," Lucy supplies.

"They showed up while you were gone," Anderson says. "Try it, they're not bad."

Hagg takes the fruit, studying it closely. "Extraordinary."

"You know what they are?" Otto asks.

Anderson peels another fruit for himself, but even as he does, he listens closely. He would never directly ask the question of a Grahamite, but he's perfectly willing to let others do the work.

"Quoile thought it was a leechee," Lucy says. "Is he right?"

"No, not a lychee. That's for certain." Hagg turns it in his hand. "It looks like it could be something the old texts called a rambutan." Hagg is thoughtful. "Though, if I recall correctly, they're somewhat related."

"Rambootan?" Anderson keeps his expression friendly and neutral. "That's a funny name. The Thais all call them ngaw."

Hagg eats the fruit, spits the fat pit into his palm. Examines the black seed, wet with his saliva. "I wonder if it will breed true."

"You could put it in a flower pot and find out."

Hagg gives him an irritated look. "If it doesn't come from a calorie company, it will breed. The Thais don't make sterile generips."

Anderson laughs. "I didn't think the calorie companies made tropical fruits."

"They make pineapples."

"Right. Forgot." Anderson waits. "How do you know so much about fruits?"

"I studied biosystems and ecology at Alabama New University."

"That's your Grahamite college, right? I thought all you studied was how to start a field burning."

The others suck in their breath at the provocation, but Hagg just looks back coldly. "Don't bait me. I'm not that sort. If we're ever going to restore Eden, it will take the knowledge of ages to accomplish it. Before I came over, I spent a year immersed in Pre-Contraction Southeast Asian Ecosystems." He reaches across and takes another fruit. "This must gall the calorie companies."

Lucy fumbles for another fruit. "You think we could fill a clipper ship with these and send them back across the water? You know, play calorie company in reverse? People would pay a fortune for them, I'll bet. New flavor and all? Sell it as a luxury."

Otto shakes his head. "You'd have to convince them it's not blister-rust tainted; the red skin will make people nervous."

Hagg nods agreement. "It's a route best not pursued."

"But the calorie companies do it." Lucy points out. "They ship seeds and food wherever they want. They're global. Why shouldn't we try the same?"

"Because it goes against all the Niche Teachings," Hagg says gently. "The calorie companies have already earned their place in hell. There's no reason you should be eager to join them."

Anderson laughs. "Come on, Hagg. you can't seriously be against a little entrepreneurial spirit. Lucy's on to something. We could even put your face on the side of the crates." He makes a sign of Grahamite blessing. "You know, approved by the Holy Church and all that. Safe as SoyPRO." He grins. "What do you think of that?"

"I would never participate in such blasphemy." Hagg scowls. "Food should come from the place of its origin, and stay there. It shouldn't spend its time crisscrossing the globe for the sake of profit. We went down that path once, and it brought us to ruin."

"More Niche Teachings." Anderson peels another fruit. "There must be a niche for money somewhere in Grahamite orthodoxy. Your cardinals are fat enough."

"The teachings are sound, even if the flock strays." Hagg stands abruptly. "Thank you for the company." He frowns at Anderson, but reaches across the table and grabs one more fruit before stalking away.

As soon as he's gone, everyone relaxes. "Christ, Lucy, why'd you do that?" Otto asks. "That man creeps me out. I left the Compact so I could get away from Grahamite priests looking over my shoulder. And you have to call one over?"

Quoile nods morosely. "I heard there's another priest here at the joint embassy now."

"They're everywhere. Like maggots." Lucy waves at them. "Toss me another fruit."

They return to their gorging. Anderson watches them, curious to see if these well-travelled creatures will have any other ideas about its provenance. The rambutan is an interesting possibility, though. Already, despite the bad news about the destroyed algae tanks and nutrient cultures, the day is turning out better than expected. Rambutan. A word to send back to Des Moines and the researchers. A route of investigation into the origins of this mysterious botanic object. Somewhere, there will be a historical record of it. He'll have to go back to his books and see if he can find-