Totem Poles Read Free Page A

earrings.”
    â€œBirth?” said Puneet, always a half-step behind. “This reminds me of the fertility festival I’d mentioned. All singing, all-dancing, very fine. I’ll take the stage and announce that my new bride is on the way to bearing me a son and heir! Thereby bringing us sympathy. The sooner the better, Leela.”
    â€œI knew you would request this, Puneet, but the time is not right. I’m a successful businesswoman, embroiled with international intrigue.”
    Puneet raised a chiding finger. “Human fertility is the one blessing that flying saucers can never bring! You must bear us two sons, seven, twelve!”
    Leela immediately locked herself in the suite’s large bathroom.
    â€œWhat are you doing in there?” called Puneet plaintively.
    â€œAll will be well, dear husband,” said Leela. Her voice was indistinct through the heavy, gilt door. “I’m consulting expert counsel.”
    Time passed. Puneet watched television, which consisted entirely of 20th century satellite reruns from China and Brazil. And now someone was pounding on the hallway door. Puneet opened up to find an attractive white woman standing there. She had smooth, pale skin, a lustrous bob of dark hair, and a writhing, bandage-wrapped package cradled in both her arms. It resembled a mummified crocodile.
    â€œDid you lose this?” said Ida, in Russian-accented English.
    â€œThat’s mine!” cried Puneet. “That’s my magic saucer lizard, it’s the source of all my business!”
    The Russian woman tenderly set the writhing mummy onto the marital bed.
    Leela unlocked the bathroom door and pranced into the hotel suite. She was still in her wedding lingerie, and had tidied her hair and make-up.
    â€œThis is the Russian woman you were talking about?” Puneet asked Leela.
    â€œI phoned her for help,” said Leela.
    â€œHelp with what?” said Puneet. “We were doing fine here! We just got married!”
    â€œDoes that make you the master of life and death?” put in Ida, rolling her glorious eyes in disdain. “While you frolic in satin sheets, a Russian hero gave his life for mankind!” She turned to Leela. “Open the windows. A miracle is at hand. A redemption. A resurrection.”
    Leela obeyed at once. The low, city-lit clouds were roiling with dark energy, swirling with an almighty monsoon of flying scraps and silver shreds. Ukrainian saucer grubs hailed in through the open windows, mounding upon the twitching silver crocodile in the bed. The grubs merged into a mass that split open, and—
    â€œA son for me?” cried Puneet.
    No. It was Kalinin. His eyes glowed like the staring orbs of a painted Byzantine icon.
    â€œOh darling,” said Ida, hurrying forward and kissing his pale lips.
    â€œWe’re going to America,” said Kalanin, pulling free.
    *   *   *
    Ida and Kalinin walked hand-in hand down a waterfront street in the grotty south end of San Francisco. It was a fine summer night, nearly dawn, with a full moon on the horizon. They’d been to an art party. There had been wine. And a smorgasbord of barbecued saucer grubs.
    â€œI love the sight of saucers now,” said Kalinin, gazing into the haunted, moonlit sky. He still had his beaky nose and his high cheekbones. His teeth were straighter than before, and he spoke English. His passage through the phantom world of the saucer-beings had changed him other, less definable ways. He said odd things, and he had a heavy aura.
    Kalinin had told Ida that he was one of twelve resurrected saucer saints—twelve saints scattered across the surface of the Earth—and that he could hear the voices of the other saints within his head at all times. But Ida and Kalinin kept these secrets from those around them. They walked among humankind like an ordinary woman and man.
    Silvered by the low moon, a nearby saucer’s energetic surface was a