Saffron and Brimstone: Strange Stories Read Online Free PDF Page A

bouncing gait, like a gymnast or circus acrobat: impatient with the ground beneath him. “Shouldn’t take long,” he called over his shoulder as Jane hurried to catch up.
    She followed him through a door marked AUTHORIZED PERSONS ONLY, into the exhibit laboratory, a reassuringly familiar place with its display cases and smells of shellac and camphor, acetone and ethyl alcohol. There were more cages here, but smaller ones, sheltering live specimens—pupating butterflies and moths, stick insects, leaf insects, dung beetles. The man dropped his net onto a desk, took the jar to a long table against one wall, blindingly lit by long fluorescent tubes. There were scores of bottles here, some empty, others filled with paper and tiny inert figures.
    “Have a seat,” said the man, gesturing at two folding chairs. He settled into one, grabbed an empty jar and a roll of absorbent paper.
    “I’m David Bierce. So where’re you staying? Camden Town?”
    “Jane Kendall. Yes—”
    “The High Street?”
    Jane sat in the other chair, pulling it a few inches away from him. The questions made her uneasy, but she only nodded, lying again, and said, “Closer, actually. Off Gloucester Road. With friends.”
    “Mm.” Bierce tore off a piece of absorbent paper, leaned across to a stainless steel sink and dampened the paper. Then he dropped it into the empty jar. He paused, turned to her and gestured at the table, smiling. “Care to join in?”
    Jane shrugged. “Sure—”
    She pulled her chair closer, found another empty jar and did as Bierce had, dampening a piece of paper towel and dropping it inside. Then she took the jar containing the dead brimstones and carefully shook one onto the counter. It was a female, its coloring more muted than the males’; she scooped it up very gently, careful not to disturb the scales like dull green glitter upon its wings, dropped it into the jar and replaced the top.
    “Very nice.” Bierce nodded, raising his eyebrows. “You seem to know what you’re doing. Work with other insects? Soft-bodied ones?”
    “Sometimes. Mostly moths, though. And butterflies.”
    “Right.” He inclined his head to a recessed shelf. “How would you label that, then? Go ahead.”
    On the shelf she found a notepad and a case of Rapidograph pens. She began to write, conscious of Bierce staring at her. “We usually just put all this into the computer, of course, and print it out,” he said. “I just want to see the benefits of an American education in the sciences.”
    Jane fought the urge to look at him. Instead she wrote out the information, making her printing as tiny as possible.
    —
    Gonepteryx rhamni cleopatra
    UNITED KINGDOM: LONDON
    Regent’s Park Zoo
    Lat/Long unknown
    21.IV.2001
    D. Bierce
    Net/caged specimen
    —
    She handed it to Bierce. “I don’t know the proper coordinates for London.”
    Bierce scrutinized the paper. “It’s actually the Royal Zoological Park,” he said. He looked at her, then smiled. “But you’ll do.”
    “Great!” She grinned, the first time she’d really felt happy since arriving here. “When do you want me to start?”
    “How about Monday?”
    Jane hesitated: this was only Friday. “I could come in
tomorrow—”
    “I don’t work on the weekend, and you’ll need to be trained. Also they have to process the paperwork. Right—”
    He stood and went to a desk, pulling open drawers until he found a clipboard holding sheaves of triplicate forms. “Here. Fill all this out, leave it with me and I’ll pass it on to Carolyn—she’s the head volunteer coordinator. They usually want to interview you, but I’ll tell them we’ve done all that already.”
    “What time should I come in Monday?”
    “Come at nine. Everything opens at ten, that way you’ll avoid the crowds. Use the staff entrance, someone there will have an ID waiting for you to pick up when you sign in—”
    She nodded and began filling out the forms.
    “All right then.” David Bierce leaned