Chapter 9 - The Scientific Research Department of Middle Earth

Life was sweet for LH. He found he liked Mahogany Row at the think tank. His rise in the feeding chain of the Development Department had been so rapid that none had ever investigated his academic credentials. He could generate money and grants. It was his only talent. He was not so squeamish as those politically correct minds who had so quickly backed off after the outcry over the dissection. Fools. They had gotten five grants afterwards, lucrative ones. He would have to tread carefully, but already LH was toying with the idea of another dissection. After all, they had been unsuccessful in their attempts in that first elf population they had selected in the Golden Wood. Perhaps they were of a higher order? All publicity was good, even bad publicity was LH’s creed. He could never understand why BW had been so upset at the killing of one Wood-Elf. It was not as if it were a human after all. It was not a sentient being. BW was too soft in addition to being plain. Still, the cache of notes he had discovered in her bedroom while she was on that field expedition had been gold to him. They revealed so much on the powerful here at SRDME and elsewhere, so much that they would prefer to be kept quiet. She was always almost wanton in her recording of people and events. And, she was so disorganized in her filing that, even if she were back, she no doubt would never have noticed the absence of those particular notes. Sometimes LH wondered what had become of her after he had dumped her, but not often. She was his past. His bed was warmed by someone considerably more attractive these days. Heather. Young, nubile, blonde. He sighed with pleasure.

Still, they had made his career, those notes. She was such a dog, BW. He had been drunk when he first took her to bed, and her pathetic devotion to him had been a tonic to him somehow. Besides, she had a better income than he did then. Her parents’ estate had left her all that money, and thus she had never even asked him to share the rent when he moved in. And, she was smart and well thought of in her field. Her income was steady and, at times, amazing to LH, who had been poor since birth. Who the hell really cared about these Wood-Elf studies?

Somebody must. Elves were on the cutting edge of popular interest these days, or so it seemed. Why, LH could not fathom, but he intended to cash in on the craze, especially as the Department had that resident population near at hand. Of course, sightings had been extremely rare since the dissection. The Wood-Elves seemed to have grown wary. LH had made himself read all the literature however much it might bore him. Fey and altogether too strange did the elves seem to him. They made his skin crawl, but that was irrelevent as far as money was concerned. He had always zoned out on her as BW would go on about Phoebus, Zippy and BandAid and their approaches to the research team’s camp site. To LH, they were talented chimps in a circus. Oh, he knew that there there were philological theories that their language and culture might really be advanced. Right. Nothing was proven. There were people who believed that they would find Atlantis as well. Besides, no one gave grants for philology research. That was a given.

He shook himself suddenly. Why was he wasting so much time musing about BW? This afternoon he was sure that he would secure the grant that would serve as his finest moment to date if not in his career. An eccentric who guided the investments of yet another eccentric wanted to give them the richest grant that they had ever been offered. Ah, they were as mother’s milk to his soul, these eccentrics. They would give richly. He had but to play to what they desired. Now, what was the name of his visitor? Gandalf Greyhame?

Odd name that, but then the letter he’d sent said that he and the donor were only living temporarily in this country, no doubt from one of those Eastern European places. Valinor or something like that. LH hadn’t even bothered to try and locate it on a map. All these little countries seemed as an operetta country to LH. One could not quite take them seriously. Still, he must remember the name of his guest today. He and the prospective donor had money to burn it seemed. People were impressed if one always remembered their names. LH buzzed his secretary, who now also shared his bed. She was good there, but sometimes she forgot herself at the office. She must not put a foot wrong with this appointment.

"Heather, any sign of him?"

"Not yet, babe. Can you believe that I just saw a party of horsemen ride up the mall? Really wild. They had bows and arrows and fake swords and everything. Must be those re-enactors practicing for the fair next month."

"Ah, yes! Remind me to get in touch with LS. We may be able to work an angle on that with the History Department. It’s worth a shot."

*****

"I am here to see your director. My name is Gandalf Greyhame."

Heather swallowed her gum, and all but choked on it. LH had said eccentric. He surely could not have meant this. This was surely beyond eccentric even by LH’s loose standards?

The old man who stood before her was clothed in white flowing robes. His long white hair and beard all but obscured his face and he held a carved white staff. His eyes fixed Heather with a burning stare.

Still it was not enough to distract her from what alarmed her most. Mr. Greyhame had not arrived alone as they expected. Beside him was the tallest and strangest man that Heather had ever seen. Also one of the most gorgeous.

He must be seven feet if he were an inch. Hugely tall yet slender and finely muscled, with long braided golden hair that fell down his back. Heather felt her face grow warmer as she looked at him. He was clad in tunic and leggings of grey and a flowing cape of dark blue velvet embroidered at its edge with what looked like small golden flowers, as if he were among the re-enactors she had seen gallop down the mall. That was probably it. Surely neither that huge bow and quiver of arrows on his back nor that extremely long sword at his waist could be real? So many of these millionaires were into historical recreations. They got bored by modern life LH said with disdain. She found somehow that she could scarcely take her eyes from the companion to their sucker, as she and LH had come to name their potential benefactor in private. She wanted to lure him into her webs and ensnare him.

"Ah, as I have said already, we are here to see your director? Please tell him that Gandalf Greyhame and Glorfindel are here."

Heather shook herself and reached for the intercom. When it squawked, she hit the appopriate button and announced: "LH, Mr. Greyhame and Mr. Findel are here to see you."

"Ah, splendid!" squawked the box. The tall blond had moved his hand to the hilt of the rubber sword and eyed the box alertly as he placed his body in front of the old man. Mr. Greyhame smiled at him calmly.

In his office, LH had no idea who Mr. Findel might be, but a friend of the potential benefactor must be made welcome. Often, they were wealthy in their own right. Fundraising was an art after all. "Please see them into the large conference room, Heather. I shall be there in a moment."

"Lady, is there aught amiss?" Mr. Findel was looking at her with grave concern while still keeping one eye on the small box on her desk. He was sure it was bewitched.

"Beg pardon?"

"It is freely given, my lady, yet I assure you that you gave no offense. I was merely concerned that some ill had befallen you as you seem to bat thine eyes with great speed at my countenance."

Mr. Greyhame seemed to be overcome by a sudden coughing spell, and Heather saw him grasp Mr. Findel’s elbow and propel him forward rapidly towards the conference room she had indicated. He might be old, but he seemed to have a wiry strength and vigor.

"Some water, perhaps, Mr. Greyhame?"

"Yes, my dear, that would be lovely of you. Our three younger companions will be joining us as soon as they have seen to the horses. Haldir o Lórien and his two brothers. Please have them join us, my dear, as soon as they arrive."

"Certainly. May I offer you anything?"

"Ah, fruit would be excellent if you have it. Glorfindel and Haldir are both especially fond of grapes. A large quantity would be prudent if you can manage it. We rode hard and did not stop for food."

"Grapes? Yes, certainly. I’ll have some delivered at once."

"A little cheese and bread, perhaps, and wine as well? Yes, wine would be very nice indeed."

Heather nodded pertly and rolled her eyes heavenward as she passed LH as he entered the room. She closed the doors and heard the exchange of introductory pleasantries as she dialed the local Gourmet Shop for delivery.

*****

The food arrived with a very much frightened delivery boy. Heather decided she really didn’t blame him for the look of abject terror he wore.

Surrounding him stood three more of the tallest and blondest men Heather had ever seen, and they were carrying three of the largest archery bows she had ever seen. All of them wore expressions of wary fierceness as they held the poor delivery sap in their gaze. They wore long cloaks of a soft grey, so she couldn’t check out their clothing as was her automatic response to men. You could tell a lot from clothes. The hair was something she’d have killed to have for herself. Heather placed a mental wager that the color didn’t come out of a bottle either. She decided upon the spot that, however dangerous it might prove, she would definitely investigate that East European country that bred such hunks. She just had to find a way to get the name out of LH without raising his suspicions.

"Lady, I am Haldir o Lórien and these are my brothers, Rúmil and Orophin. We are seeking Gandalf Greyhame and Glorfindel and have found this creature skulking in the corridors of thy keep. He would not give his name when fairly asked by my brothers, and so we grew wary that he may be here with fell intentions."

"Oh, no, he was expected, Mr. O’Lorien. LH sent for some refreshments for Mr. Greyhame’s group." Haldir bowed his head courteously and released the terrified delivery boy. For the first time ever, the Gourmet Shop driver didn’t wait for a tip as he raced from the room as fast as he could. Orophin looked at his brother as if he were troubled, but Haldir’s smile reassured him as ever.

"Well, Mr. O’Lorien, if you and your brothers will just follow me to the conference room." She made a move to pick up the delivery box, but, at a quick nod from Haldir, Rúmil took it from her hands to carry.

"Lady, allow my brother to carry this heavy burden for you. It is not meet that such a lady as yourself be so encumbered. Lead and we shall follow you."

*****

"Ah, the fruit has arrived at last! And our companions with this lovely lady. Haldir o Lórien and his brothers Rúmil and Orophin." Gandalf gestured to identify the three to LH as Orophin helped Rúmil lay out the fruit, bread and cheese. Gandalf noted gratefully that there appeared to be no odd wrappings to confuse the brothers. No mellyrn leaves, but at least nothing the two youngest couldn’t understand. Haldir seemed to be coping rather well, but then his voyage to New Zealand had probably been helpful on that. "Haldir, this gentleman has asked that we call him LH."

"‘Tis a fair name." Actually, Haldir thought it was rather strange, but he was courteous and nodded his head. He took his place by Glorfindel and motioned to Orophin to sit on his other side. Glorfindel quickly helped himself to a supply of grapes from the bowl Rúmil sat before his brothers. He was not going to be beaten by the young one this time. Haldir smiled courteously at the older elf as he helped himself and Orophin.

"The horses have been fed?"

"Aye, Glorfindel, Rúmul found a fountain amidst the great grassland before this dwelling. We let them drink and turned them loose to graze."

"You arrived on horses? There is a train, Mr. Findel." Glorfindel glanced at Gandalf, and saw the Istar shake his head slightly. So, Glorfindel held his peace even though he wondered greatly what sort of steed a train might be. He decided he would ask Elrond if he knew. Having a library rat as a best friend did have certain advantages.

"Ah, that is my fault. My health requires this sort of exercise and these young gentlemen are generous in indulging someone as old as myself." Gandalf smiled his most charming smile. Had Legolas been there to see it, he would have ducked quickly under the table. Gandalf’s smiles could be very dangerous. "Now, if I understood what you were saying, LH, it seems that the Department will be delighted to meet the terms of Mr. Greenleaf’s gift. It is a generous one and the terms seem quite straightforward."

"Extremely generous, Mr. Greyhame." LH drooled mentally as he remembered the ornate casket of jewels and gold that had just been placed into the Department’s safe. Title would be theirs as soon as the terms of the grant were met. "I am sure that we will all be delighted to meet the terms of the bequest. Mr. Greenleaf does the Department great honor by recognizing the difficult work of the Dissection Team in light of the certain amount of controversy that surrounded their last project."

Gandalf saw Orophin become a little paler at these words, but Haldir quickly poured his brother a glass of wine and put it into the trembling young hand with a reassuring smile. Orophin took a deep breath and sipped the wine.

"Controversy oft surrounds that which is new as I understand you to say. Mr. Greenleaf has taken a personal interest in your research and is intent on meeting with the team to discuss their activities. Alas, since the recent death of his son, he has become almost a complete recluse. Tragedy can do that to one as I am sure you know." Again, Gandalf smiled charmingly. "Mr. Greenleaf is most appreciative of the team’s willingness to travel to him for their meeting. It is an inconvenience for them to have to camp in the forest, but there are no accommodations near to Mr. Greenleaf’s dwelling and, as I mentioned, he has become such a recluse of late. He would not really be at ease with so many houseguests, however distinguished. We will I assure you provide quite a luxurious campsite in keeping with the dignity of the team. All expenses will of course be met by us. Ah, I’m sure they will enjoy it. The Great Wood is most beautiful at this time of year. All that healthy fresh air!"

LH was just glad he didn’t have to make the trip. JV and that dissection team of his had caused considerable problems for his fundraising efforts. He had pointed this out to the Board only yesterday at its emergency meeting to discuss the unexpected windfall. LH had been assured that the scientists would do all that was required of them.

"I’m sure they will enjoy it, Mr. Greyhame." LH was actually sure that they would hate every minute of it. JV, the team leader, was not the outdoorsy type. He preferred chasing skirts at the local bars. That was his problem though. LH thought contentedly of the jewels in the safe.

"Just one last thing, LH, before we really must make our departure. I was given to understand that you might know the researcher on another of your Departments teams. I believe her name was BW?"

"Ah, yes, I had some dealings with her. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, just curious. Mr. Greenleaf and I are familiar with her study of the wood-elves. In our youth, they were often sighted in the area we understand, but the colony seems to have dwindled. A sad thing, but then life moves on."

"Unfortunately, BW is no longer with the Department. I understand she may have relocated to New Zealand." LH smiled in relief. He’d been worried for a moment, but the bumbling old man’s inquiry seemed harmless after all.

"Ah, New Zealand! I understand that it has become quite a popular place for people to visit." Gandalf nodded at the elves who rose silently and gracefully from the table as one. "Well, we really must be off. Thank you so much for this delicious repast and all your efforts on our behalf. We shall look to the coming of the Dissection Team a week from the morrow at daybreak."

That should really please JV was the amused thought of the Development Director. The doctor was not good at morning meetings. LH exchanged courteous farewells with the group and escorted them to the door. This called for a drink he thought and turned to Heather to ask her to fix them.

The blonde was standing, almost transfixed, by the window. Startled at his words, she turned back to him and said in a hushed voice. "LH, they’re all riding bareback and with no bridles, even the old guy."