The Pollinators of Eden Read Online Free PDF Page B

her. “Strange evils lurk in the colors of Flora. I know, for I’m a Green Hornet.”
    “Down, boy,” she said, moving away. “Now, tell me, Green Hornet, what’s a Galatea?”
    “Galatea was a statue so beautiful her sculptor fell in love with her, and his love gave her life. But Venus de Milo was jealous and got Galatea stoned—”
    “Oh, that’s Greek mythology. You’re Italian.”
    “Rome conquered Greece. Anything a Greek can do, Italians can do better.”
    “Another question. What’s this Hypothesis X Paul tells me about?”
    His features, visible now in the neon glare of downtown Fresno, grew serious. “You aren’t ready for that idea, Freda. I want you to fungo a few easy ideas first, to get your mind limbered up. Hypothesis X is a high and inside fast ball that could low-bridge Einstein.”
    Freda had no intention of conducting a study of the comparative abilities of Greeks versus Italians, but she conceded the laurels to the Italians in the matter of obtaining reservations at Italian restaurants. They were conducted to a window table by a phalanx of centurions, seated to rest by an extremely unctuous maître d’, and presented with a view of the lights of Fresno twinkling forty floors below and stretching as far south as the topmost towers of Bakersfield, whose lights were visible beyond the horizon. Even so, her attention was drawn away by the wine-pouring of a waiter who must have learned his trade conducting the Milan Symphony Orchestra. When Freda commented on the camaraderie of paisanos, Hal dismissed her admiration. “A Swede could do it the way I did it. How do you like the wine?”
    “Exquisite. How did you leave Paul?”
    “Buck naked in a breeze from a helicopter. I didn’t get to work with him on Tropica because Hector assigned me to the continent after I helped Paul set up camp. After that, I only saw him twice, once to pick up soil samples and once to pick up your package. That soil, by the way, is loaded with rare earths. Some of the plants glow for a while after sunset, and on my second visit I mentioned that if the plants could emit light, they could possibly receive it. Personally I knew of maple trees with a psychic lure, but Paul jumped on my idea of light reception. By then, he was hung up on the pollination bit, and he figured the orchid blooms could be visual lures for other orchids.”
    “But it wouldn’t explain the fragrance,” Freda said.
    “There is none. Just a musky odor… More wine?”
    “Please.”
    As Hal poured, she was remembering Paul’s lines, “… the female orchids exude a perfume so enchanting… it would devastate the ecology of earth in nine months.” If Hal spoke the truth, and he should have no reason to lie, his remark meant that he had not seen the female orchids. Casually she asked, “Where did you talk to Paul when you landed?”
    “Usually by the helicopter. We landed on a stretch of bare coral near the edge of the escarpment.”
    “Did you ever go back into the groves with Paul?”
    “Never did. As a matter of fact, I once accused him of having a still back in the groves. He said they all looked alike. See one orchid, you’ve seen them all, he said. Besides, he liked the view from the escarpment, and it was impressive. A thousand feet, straight down, and across the terrace, about three miles, rose another escarpment, this one about six hundred feet.”
    Hal paused as bowls of minestrone were wafted before them. She sipped the soup, thinking: If Hal spent only an hour at a time with Paul, he could not have exerted a tremendously erratic influence on his teacher. Hal was bent in benediction over the soup, which was delicious, and suddenly he raised his head. “Why did you ask if Paul ever took me back into the groves?”
    “Oh, I’m just generally interested. You were saying something about maple trees.”
    “Oh, yes!” He grinned. “You know, psychologists have a theory about something called abreaction, where a fellow works out