Marina nodded, throat suddenly dry and feeling like a child in the presence of a much more experienced adult, “Yes, quite a few items actually. And since this is just the second level to be submitted, I’m not sure what else I might get in the future. I’d like some guidance so I can deal with future loads more confidently.”
Greta dipped her head in a sort of quasi-nod, like a teacher receiving an exceptionally good answer to a test question. She looked at the bag still clutched in Marina’s hands on top of the table. “Please, show us.”
Marina cleared her throat and opened the bag. She began to withdraw items from envelopes and laid them on top, then slid each toward the center of the table where all might get a better view. She had about a dozen on the table before anyone spoke, each person either eyeing the items from their seat or picking individual things up and examining them more closely. She was arranging the bands with things that looked like blank faced watches on their envelope when the Historian gave an “ah” of recognition. Marina started, not realizing how tense she had become under the watchful gazes of these silent people.
Greta held up one of the curved clamp things and said, “This, I believe, is called a chit clip. Chits used to be much larger and when a person was going to shop, like at the bazaar where there are many places to buy, the chits could be held in good order in one of these. Efficient, but rather extravagant.”
Marina nodded, thinking of her experiment with the sheaf of papers, and they passed the clip around the table so that everyone could get a good look at it.
“What about the decorations on them? Each one is different and I don’t know their significance, if there is any,” Marina shrugged and ran her fingers over the strange symbol on the one she had been passed as it made its way around the table.
She could make out the letters, U.S.A.F. but the rest didn’t make sense to her. She could only see that it was both detailed and beautiful. It must have meant something to someone. She rubbed her fingers across the engraving once more and then passed it back to Greta.
“Hmm. I’m not familiar with any specifically like this but it does remind me of the kind of symbols we run across now and then.” She looked up, clicked a short nail against the face of the clip she held and said, “This one I would like to keep back. Anything with symbols of this kind might have some importance and I would like to examine any such before reclamation is finalized and the piece is destroyed.”
“And they might not be important,” Darren replied. “We need good and compelling reasons to keep back the silver. We all know the seriousness of our situation.”
Greta nodded, all eyes upon her. “Of course. We all do know it and I am keeping it well in mind.” It was a kind of rebuke, though Marina was quite sure the Historian didn’t mean it to be belittling in any way. Darren went pink about the ears and looked annoyed.
“I’m just saying that if we hold back everything that might be interesting or might have some symbol someone might identify at some undefinable future point, then we’ll have more held back than we melt down,” he replied, the splotches of pink on his ears growing towards his cheeks as he spoke.
Again Greta nodded. “You’re correct in the assessment that there is potential for a great imbalance in what is sent for reclamation and what is actually reclaimed if everything of interest is held back. Hence, I do not suggest that. I only suggest that symbols such as this one be examined by the Historians prior to destruction. There is much we don’t know about the past. Our history is incomplete.”
Darren went from pink to the full blown blotchy red of embarrassment. Marina felt sorry for him and understood where his concern was. He had been the first to see the value of her proposition when she brought it up and had supported the passing of the resolution. She decided that she had to come to his aid, at least obliquely.
“I understand what you’re saying and I think I can arrange it so that any delay won’t impact our supply.” She faced Darren, holding eye contact with him as she spoke, “Your concern for the supply is valid and it is my fault that I haven’t updated you. The load from Level 25 wasn’t big, but it was enough to ensure we have stock for the immediate future. We won’t have to touch what remains in the vaults. We’ve also begun fabricating more manual switches in places where such can be done to decrease some demand. And IT…,” she trailed off, looking at Piotr to fill in the gap.
Piotr took up the thread quickly and spoke, also directing it toward Darren as if the others were not in the room, “In IT we’re consolidating the remaining servers as much as we can. It should save some wear and tear on the components. We’re also working on some of the other automated processes, like climate control, to see where we can consolidate and reduce precious metal use.” He glanced at Marina, confirming his next words and offering her the opportunity to add to or counter them, “We’re in much better shape than we were.”
Marina nodded gratefully and looked at the others around the room. Greta was observing the exchange with an inscrutable look on her face. Others either jotted notes or continued to handle the objects on the table while listening.
Darren’s color receded some and he took a sip of water before carefully laying down one of the strange alligator clips. His fingers brushed against the little decoration that danged from the chain on the clip. This decoration depicted a strange shield shape with lines running down one part of it and stars across another. An animal of some sort with terrible clawed feet seemed to float over it while gripping wicked pointed objects in one foot and unidentifiable things in the other.
“What about this one?” he asked.
Greta held out her hand and Darren gently placed the object in her hand. All was forgiven and they could move along now. Marina immediately felt less tense and sensed that others felt the same.
She watched as Greta peered at the clip closely. Marina remembered that particular alligator clip. The work on the bauble was detailed and tiny, but exquisitely precise. Finally she pronounced her opinion and laid it carefully on the table. “I do not know the purpose of this item but the symbol is very familiar. We have found it in many locations and on a variety of objects, both small and large. It appeared to have some great importance or wider meaning that we have not ascertained. We have even found this printed on the upper portions of papers and on folders in our archives. Sadly, both of those were found in new condition, with no historical content. They contain no data other than this preprinted symbol. I don’t think we need to reserve it permanently, but I would like to get a drawing of it. Compare it with the others too, perhaps. Sometimes there are slight differences.”
The Mayor’s proxy nodded, scribbling a quick note. “I think we should probably get a drawing or image of anything like that before destruction. Can we agree on that?” She looked around the table for affirmation or assent.
“Perhaps not everything,” answered Greta. “Creating drawings of this detail takes a great deal of time and there are only so many artists who can do it.”
The proxy just nodded and pushed the object she had been handling, one of the items with the rotating posts that had a black stone set in its larger side, to the center of the table.
Marina took out the rest of the objects, reserving only the pocket watch. That envelope she kept encircled by her hands. The move was noticed by Taylor, who raised an eyebrow at her. Marina ignored the gesture.