Ogi's shout of joy wasn't just because he'd figured out how to arrange his office. It was as if his renewed sexual energy, missing an outlet for its dis- charge, had called out. He had no idea what he'd be able to accomplish here, working on Patron's staff, though he felt relieved to know the foundation would still be paying him something. He wouldn't be working here as a fresh- faced new believer-it was just a job, after all-but even so he was filled with an enthusiastic desire to shout for joy. All right!
6
Without rearranging any of the office equipment, Ogi moved the of- fice desk by himself, figured out how he and Dancer would both sit, checked the electrical outlets, and adjusted the height of his chair. He brought a rag and a bucket of water from the kitchen and cleaned the unused desk and shelves, generally getting his new workplace in order. As he did, the unkempt garden with its flowering dogwoods, camellias, and magnolias grew darker as the June twilight came on. The limpid blue sky stayed light for the longest time. Finished with his straightening up and with no work to do yet in the newly settled office, he sat on the side of the sofa nearer the garden, lost in thought, gazing out the window at the gathering gloom. Dancer suddenly appeared from the dark corridor. She had changed into a sleeveless linen shirt and a long light-colored skirt. With her hair pulled back, she reminded Ogi of an attractive Chinese girl he'd seen once in San Francisco 's Chinatown.
"Patron would like to talk with you," she said, her voice hard; Ogi understood she wanted him to act as if nothing had happened. Ever resigned, he played along. He realized that for the last two hours he'd been enjoying the afterglow of those lips and tongue, the movement of that belly.
Dancer waited for him to stand up, switched on the light in the corri- dor, and deftly explained things to him.
"We'll tell him about your conversation with the Chairman. If there's something you'd like to add, be sure to make it short. Patron may have some questions for you… By the way, you've done a good job of arranging your workstation."
The drapery with its design of groves of trees was half drawn, and a faint lustrous golden light shone through the lace curtains against the glass; in the western side of the room, at a what looked like a small ornamental desk, Patron's heavy form sat at an angle. On top of the desk were some envelopes- too small for mailing letters-and Patron, half turned in their direction, held a fountain pen in his pudgy fingers. The light wasn't conducive to writing letters, though.
Dancer and Ogi couldn't find any chairs to sit on, so they stood to- gether facing Patron. Patron's face still looked swollen, but he seemed to have recovered from his earlier emotional turmoil as Ogi reported on how he'd changed jobs, unable to resist touching on what the Chairman had told him about Balzac. Just as it had with Dancer, this brought on an irritable reaction.
"I can't believe Le Treize was such a simplistic idea. I think the Chair- man has his own preconception about it," Patron said, inclining his overly large head and casting a gloomy look at Ogi. "For someone like him who's lived such a focused life, no matter how imaginative the notion he's always got to bring it back down to earth. I'm flattered that he thought of Guide and me when he came up with these ideas, though I can't imagine how what we've done or are about to do might correspond to some modern-day Thirteen.
What do you think, Ogi?"
Ogi understood that Patron's question to him was nothing more than a rhetorical device he used when delivering a sermon, but he went ahead and replied. Although he was not a particularly voluble person, it was Ogi's na- ture that once he had something to say, he didn't hold back.
"The foundation holds regular conferences, one of which you attended, as you recall," Ogi said. "I used to be in charge of making the arrangements. The members included such people as the French ambassa- dor chairmen of large corporations, advisers to banks and brokerage firms, even a novelist who'd won the Order of Cultural Merit-to put it bluntly, all people whose careers in their respective fields are basically drawing to a close.
"There was some discussion about making you a member, and they decided to invite you once as a guest. Ever since the time I escorted you to the Kansai research facility, the Chairman has recommended you to the confer- ence. Being a clever group of men, they did not oppose having you partici- pate one time. To tell the truth, though, some of them acted as if they were receiving a jester into their midst. Several of the members' secretaries reported happily to me later that their bosses enjoyed your talk enormously. These secretaries also asked me, in their employers' stead, whether it was true that you and Guide had actually severed all ties with your church, or whether that was merely a diversionary tactic aimed at the upcoming trials.
"In other words, from the very beginning it's been just a pipe dream for those movers and shakers to join forces with an eccentric such as yourself.
They're cautious people; they were just amusing themselves at your expense.
Even if you had become a member, as soon as they knew you were about to begin leading a new religious movement you can be sure they'd have voted you out."
Patron listened carefully. Instead of adding a comment, though, he wound up their conversation by directing Ogi and Dancer to undertake a new job. The two young people withdrew and began preparing a late dinner. In the kitchen next to the dining room, they took out what was available in the refrigerator and set to work.
"Patron looks well, don't you think?" Dancer said to Ogi, as they di- vided up the work. "It's hard to believe, after how hopeless he said he felt once Guide looked like he wouldn't recover. Now, ten days later, with you work- ing as a secretary, here he is already set on starting a new movement. He's an amazing personality, don't you think? Though that's nothing new to me."
Sautéing a thinly sliced onion in butter, Ogi wanted to say, If that's nothing new to you, why don't you keep quiet? But Dancer, ever sensitive, ended her thoughts with a meaningful remark. "I think it was good for both °f you that Patron opened up so honestly." She was slicing a chunk of beef into thin strips in preparation for making a quick gourmet curry, her mouth half open as usual, revealing a tongue glistening with saliva that brought a painful twinge of nostalgia to Ogi.
Patron had told them as he outlined the task he wanted them to begin, I only rely on a very few of my followers, which isn't surprising, seeing as how I couldn't even rely on myself!"
This struck Ogi as a bit of a non sequitur, but Dancer gave a cute, non- chalant laugh.
"Ogi's working for us now as kind of an extension of his earlier job,"
Patron added, "but I don't think he's made the leap over to our side yet. Well, just so that we all agree on that, starting tomorrow I'd like you do this for me. It's the reason I called you both in here. I have a number of handwritten cards making up a name list. First I'd like Dancer to make two complete copies and return the originals to me."
Patron gathered up the papers on his desk that were too small for sta- tionery and handed them over to Dancer, who promptly disappeared into the living room and was back in the blink of an eye.
"What I'd like the two of you to do," Patron continued, "is to get in touch with my supporters on this list, mainly those in Tokyo and surrounding areas, but also some in outlying regions."
Patron was at the age when he should be wearing reading glasses, but he took the originals of the cards Dancer had returned to him, holding them at arm's length from his large face as he studied them. Dancer had been stand- ing next to Ogi, but now she moved closer to Patron; knitting her brow in a line of fine wrinkles, she attentively examined the copies, for all the world like a schoolgirl reading a handout of her lines for the school play. For Ogi, the handwriting of this man who'd been schooled in the precomputer age was surprisingly unimpressive, even childish. He felt compelled to question Patron about this rather audacious list.