ARC: The Buried Life by Carrie Patel Read Free Book Online Page A

Every office lobby in the world must feel the same. The secretary looked up at the sound of their boots, blinking her mole-like eyes at them.
    Sundar clasped his hands and rested his forearms on the desk, and Malone glimpsed a thin, red cord hanging to the side. A panic alarm. Sundar would have only one chance to bypass her, and he would have to choose his words carefully.
    And he predictably began with polite nothings. “Good day, ma’am.”
    The secretary squinted at him. “Your business?”
    He swallowed. “You’ll kindly pardon my confusion, but we’re looking for the Directorate of Preservation. Could you, by chance, show us the way?”
    “You’re standing in it,” the secretary said. Malone bit her tongue and hoped that Sundar had more to his act than this.
    “How fortuitous. Not too many markings on the streets in this area, I’m afraid.”
    “Most people who come here know where they’re going.”
    Sundar flashed a radiant smile. “Never said better.” He reached up to scratch a spot behind his ear. “Now, to business. We’re here as–”
    He did not finish. A shining disk arced through the air between them, landing somewhere below the secretary’s desk. Malone winced, waiting for the secretary to dive for the panic alarm.
    “My lens!” Sundar felt the empty space in his frames. “How terribly embarrassing. I knew I should have had these mended. I do hope you can find it down there, I’m positively helpless without my glasses.” Malone caught the thespian’s flourish as he recited his lines. It felt like Sundar was overdoing it, but even so, the secretary didn’t seem to notice.
    Busied and thrown off balance by the distraction, the secretary bent over the floor, patting it for the missing lens. Malone peered over the counter and looked at her ledger.
    At last the secretary stood up again. “Here.” Sundar slipped off his glasses and gave them to her. When she had pressed the lens into place, he leaned forward to allow her to slide the glasses onto his face.
    “Thank you so much,” Sundar said. “I’m afraid I can never see straight to pop it in myself.” The secretary’s hand brushed his cheek.
    “But my, what soft hands you have,” he said.
    Malone could not believe her ears.
    “However do you manage?” he said. “All that paperwork must suck the moisture right out.”
    To Malone’s astonishment, she saw blooms of color rising in the secretary’s wan cheeks, and she realized that the woman was falling under the persuasion of that graceful nose and those delicately curved lips.
    “Almond oil and beeswax.” She smiled. “I keep a little jar of it under my desk.”
    “Too clever! And it’s those little acts of inventiveness that say so much about a person, don’t you think? Well, I’m sorry to have gone on so,” he said. The secretary didn’t appear to mind. “But we’re here for research. I’m Professor Stewart, and this is my supervisor, Professor Donner. I believe we have an appointment?”
    The secretary shifted through her papers, frowning. “You’re not listed anywhere.”
    “I’m afraid this whole matter was rather last minute,” Sundar said. “I don’t mean to seem difficult, but this appointment is quite crucial to our trip here, and as we’re obligated to return tomorrow, we really won’t have another opportunity.” The secretary glanced up, a doubtful expression creeping back into her face. “We’re visiting from South Haven, you see,” he added.
    Recognition flashed in the secretary’s small eyes. Seizing the advantage, Malone jumped in. “If you’ll check with Councilor Hollens, or with Dr Hask, I’m certain one of them could clear this up for us.”
    The secretary pursed her papery lips, wavering. After a moment’s hesitation, she rose. “Wait here,” she said. “Ten minutes.” She scuttled through the door beyond her desk and disappeared with a quickness that belied her age. Not wasting a moment, Malone darted behind the desk and