The Administration Series (136 page)

Toreth looked surprised, not surprisingly given that work was a closed topic.

"I'm not asking for details, it was merely a general question about concentration."

"Work's different." He shrugged. "I concentrate all the bloody time at work. And I do a lot of boring crap conscientiously, because it's important that it gets done properly. When I'm not at work, I do things for fun."

"And fucking isn't fun?"

"Of course fucking's fun, usually, but not today."

Warrick finally located his second sock. "Something I did?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral.

"No. Nothing. You're . . . it was fine. I'm bored, that's all. I'm . . . I don't bloody know. I just fancied a change." He walked over to the doorway, a little too quickly, hesitated there, then turned. "Aren't you
ready
yet?"

That was as much as it took for Toreth to start getting uncomfortable. If Warrick pressed any more, the good mood would evaporate completely, and beyond that Toreth would leave. Luckily, Warrick knew the signs well enough by now that unpleasantness was usually avoided.

"Yes, ready." Suddenly, he knew where to go. "I don't have the car; I'll call a taxi."

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

He was always flattered when Toreth was willing to accept something like that without question.

"The
Zoo
?" Toreth asked as they got out of the taxi.

"Why not? It's a beautiful day. Besides, you've already rejected everything else in New London." A slight exaggeration, but Toreth didn't pick it up. "Don't you like zoos?"

"No idea — never been to one."

"Then it'll be a new experience." Not Toreth's favourite thing actually, but he tried to make it sound like a bonus. "I like it a great deal."

"Yeah? You never said."

"The topic never arose. This way."

The sun shone brightly and the Zoo was clearly going to be busy, a crowd already forming outside the ornate gates. Primarily families, enjoying an inexpensive day out. Citizens making the most of the Administration-funded facility.

Warrick paused, caught by the memory of standing there himself, with Dilly, Tar and Aunt Jen, when the gates had seemed a lot taller. The zoo had been one of Jen's favourite holiday diversions, when the children were at home and her sister was at work. A promise of a trip there was worth at least a week of good behaviour. Then, once they were inside, he'd fight with Dilly over what they went to see first, and Jen would make them take turns to —

Toreth coughed. "Are we going in, or not?"

Bypassing the main queues, Warrick scanned his ID at a smaller gate, and they were let through.

"How come you get in free?" Toreth asked.

"Funny family story that I won't bore you with. The punch line is that Dilly and I bought each other life membership one New Year, without knowing what the other was buying."

"Doesn't sound very funny."

"And that is precisely why I didn't tell you the rest."

Beyond the gates was a large paved area — a place for meetings and departures. Warrick stopped by the tall, fluted post bearing signs with white letters on black metal, pointing down the radiating paths to the various sections. "What would you like to do first?" he asked.

It was an unfair question, in a way, since Toreth couldn't really be expected to know. To Warrick's astonishment, he said, "Do they have flamingos?"

"Er, yes. They're over this way, I think."

He wondered all the way whether to ask, deciding in the end that Toreth would tell him if he wanted him to know. As it was, Toreth didn't say anything at all as they walked. However, he was whistling. Usually a good sign, if hard on the ears.

They reached the flamingo pool, next to a picnic and play area. Toreth picked his way through the already swarming children with the particular expression of concentrated distaste he always wore in their presence. When he reached the edge, he stopped and leaned on the low wall, looking at the birds. Ignoring the noise, they had formed a tight group in the centre of the shallow water, the majority asleep, balanced on one leg with their heads under their wings. Their pink plumage looked faded — something to do with diet, Warrick recalled.

"They're smaller than I was expecting," Toreth said as Warrick came up beside him.

Warrick couldn't tell if that pleased him or not. "Oh?"

"Yeah." After a moment he straightened up and brushed his hands off. "Okay. What do you want to see?"

Given Toreth's earlier declaration of boredom, Warrick decided to avoid the more scientific areas, like the research and breeding centres, and concentrate on less demanding entertainment. He picked the Reptile House, more or less at random, and they set off. On the way, Warrick looked mostly at Toreth, and Toreth split his attention between captives and spectators. At least he appeared to be enjoying something so far — the Zoo was as good for people-watching as for watching any other kind of animal.

After they'd toured round the Reptile House, where Toreth pronounced himself disappointed by the general torpor of the inhabitants, Toreth used his turn to choose their next goal to suggest a drink.

They sat at a small cafe, drinking coffee and watching other visitors passing. Before long, Toreth slipped into a near-constant stream of assessments of his chances of picking up one or another of them. Warrick considered being offended, but decided it was harmless enough when there was no chance of Toreth actually setting off in pursuit — although he tried not to express disbelief at any individual claim, just to be on the safe side.

However, when Toreth had offered a dead cert on a man in his late twenties escorting a woman and two children, he finally gave in and asked, "How the hell can you tell?"

"Practise." Toreth sipped his coffee. "Lots of practise."

"No, seriously. What is it about him, in particular, that made you pick him out?"

Toreth looked at him sharply, and the flash of jealousy made Warrick smile. "I'm not interested in
him
. Just in the theory."

"Okay. Come on, we need to get round in front of him again."

They finished the coffees, took a short cut across a triangle of grass, and then waited by the tapirs for the family to reappear. Before they did, Toreth picked out another couple.

"Now, look at these two here — he's never going to be interested. Straight as they come. Watch this. Watch him."

Toreth cut across their path at a diagonal, looking the opposite way, a little distracted, and almost-but-not-quite collided with the woman. There was a moment of confusion, smiled apologies, and Toreth carried on. Warrick watched obediently, not entirely sure what he was supposed to be seeing.

When he reached the far side of the wide path, Toreth stopped and leaned on the wall. Warrick was about to join him, but Toreth gestured for him to stay put. He realised why a moment later when he spotted the dead cert and his wife approaching. Toreth repeated the manoeuvre with them, ending up next to him again.

"Well?" Toreth asked.

"No, sorry."

"You didn't see any difference?" Toreth sounded genuinely surprised.

"Not really."

"Never mind. I'll find someone else, and you can try again."

"You could simply tell me."

"No, this is more fun — we're supposed to be looking at wildlife, aren't we? But it's a bit quiet here. Come on."

Warrick followed along as Toreth searched for a more suitable hunting spot. It was, he reflected, an odd way to spend a Sunday — taking pickup tips from your something-like-a-partner.

After the next demonstration had proved equally fruitless, Toreth took pity on him and said, "You're probably looking at the wrong part. Watch them as I'm walking away."

Two more pairs of couples, and then he saw it. As Toreth made his charming apologies and departed, the dead certs watched him, the others watched their wives. It was almost disappointingly easy.

"Is that it?" he said, when Toreth strolled back up to him.

Toreth laughed at his expression. "Yes, that's it. Basically it, anyway. It's all in how they look at other people. Mind you, that's the perfect setup to demonstrate it — under normal circumstances, it's harder to spot. But how long would it have taken you to notice on your own?"

"Probably never," he admitted. "Actually, it would've never even occurred to me to look."

"Good. Doesn't always work, anyway. And it only works exactly like that if the other half is around."

"So how do you tell if they aren't?"

Toreth laughed again. "As if I'm going to tell
you
. There you go, then, demo over. It's your turn to pick somewhere — try to choose something that moves, this time."

As the day progressed, the Zoo filled up, and navigating the crowded paths became more of a chore. Finally, they retreated to the refreshments complex, built on the top of an artificial hill. There Warrick chose one of the more upmarket of the restaurants, and they had a very late lunch.

Afterwards, they took their beers out onto the terrace and sat in surprisingly comfortable wrought iron chairs, watching the crowds milling around below them. In their enclosures, the animals seemed to be mostly asleep and unmoving in the heat. From up here, the blended voices of the visitors made an almost musical background. Children's voices, in the main. To Warrick the Zoo had always been a childhood place, a family place, although he'd never say something like that to Toreth.

"What do you think of it, then?" Warrick asked.

Toreth shrugged. "It's okay. I wouldn't mind coming back, anyway. Especially when there aren't so many kids. Far too many, and far too bloody loud."

Thinking about the same thing, coming to such different conclusions. "I like kids."

"I know you do, Uncle Keir." Toreth stretched out in his chair and closed his eyes against the sun. "And you're welcome to the nasty little fuckers."

Since Toreth couldn't see him, Warrick allowed himself a smile. Toreth's reaction to children always amused him. There were so many topics that Warrick wouldn't normally dare raise with him, most of them to do with their relationship. Any suggestion that they would be together in the long term was risky. Offers of affection that weren't tied to fucking, expressing any kind of disapproval over his compulsive infidelity, even bringing food round to Toreth's flat too frequently — any of these and more could trigger a retreat. Then there were the standalone topics, such as Toreth's family, which were absolutely unmentionable.

Children, however, simply irritated him. Never, as far as Warrick could remember, had Toreth ever reacted badly to his expressing an approval of them. He found it funny because the topic was, classically, a panic-inducing one for the commitment-phobic. His best guess was that it had never occurred to Toreth that 'I like children' might in any way be connected to 'I would like to have children of my own', with all the concomitant relationship implications. It had never seemed like a good idea to suggest the link to him.

He'd discussed the idea once with, of all people, Sara. She'd brought it up, the excuse being that her own mother was beginning to mention grandchildren excessively; in reality, she'd been fishing. She'd seemed to approve of his generally positive views on the subject, then worked briskly round to whether he, in the specific, wanted any.

He'd closed that avenue off with bland nothings, with which she hadn't bothered to hide her annoyance. Then, casual conversational distraction, he'd asked her what she thought Toreth would be like with children.

Sara had given it long and serious thought, and then said, "I think he'd probably eat them."

He'd laughed, and that had been it. Because, really, it was so true that there was nothing else to say. Keeping Toreth around involved sacrifces, and this was one of them and by no means the largest.

It was very pleasant, sitting in the sun and doing nothing. Not something Warrick did often, with or without Toreth, and he decided they ought to do it again. Not necessarily the Zoo, but they didn't spend much time together simply . . . being somewhere together.

It was something that would be better not discussed, but just quietly arranged. Maybe he'd even risk suggesting a holiday that wasn't disguised as a conference trip. A few days somewhere warm, with a beach; given his dislike of being underwater in the sim, Toreth probably wouldn't dive, but he might be induced to snorkel . . .

Warrick closed his eyes, imagining Toreth's body, powdery with dried salt. Blond hair bleached a shade lighter by the sun. Blue eyes squinting against the dazzle from the sea, softening the hardness of his face. Tanning skin, with perhaps a touch of sunburn along his shoulders — just a little something to stroke soothing lotion over. He smiled at the picture, and his body's approving reaction to it. Maybe insatiable wasn't such a bad description, at that. Better make it somewhere secluded enough for nude swimming. Fine, hot sand, which of course would be far more inconvenient than it was in the sim, but still —

A squeak of metal on stone caught his attention and, sure enough, when he looked round, he found that Toreth was watching him.

"What're you smirking about?" Toreth asked.

Warrick sat up. "Guess."

He kept the scrutiny up for a few seconds longer, then grinned. "Well, of course — what else?"

They finished their beers, then had another round. After those had also gone down Toreth looked at his watch. "Shall we go?"

"Why not? Except that . . . " Warrick hesitated. When he'd thought of the Zoo, he'd had something specific in mind, but he wasn't sure he wanted to risk it spoiling the day. "I wanted to show you something before we do. She was new here the last time I came with Dilly, a few weeks ago, and I'm thinking of modelling one for the sim."

"What is it?"

"Just come and see. It won't take long," he added.

Toreth shrugged amiably. "If you like."

The enclosure had been newly renovated and the small path up to it started just beyond the flamingo pool. On that basis, it might be expected to be busy, but at the start of the path stood a board displaying, 'NO CHILDREN', reinforced by a chronically bored attendant. He nodded them through and then returned to a comm conversation with what sounded to be a profoundly unhappy girlfriend.