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"To get it organized and take care of things as they came up, I suppose,"
Michael said. "It's not really spelled out. We had a sort of understanding& "
Having said that, he wasn't sure how true it was. But he couldn't say, I'm
being set up for something bigger
&
"Did he ever talk to you about Opus 45?"
The waitress interrupted with their lunch, and they leaned back to let her
serve it.
"Yes," Michael said. He gave her a brief outline as they ate, explaining about
Waltiri's collaboration with
Clarkham  to a point  and the circumstances after the performance.
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"That's fascinating," she said. "Now I see why the music is legendary. Do you
think the score still exists?
I mean, would he have& burned it, or hidden it away where no one would find
it?"
Michael shook his head, chewing on a bite of fish. "I'll keep looking," he
said.
"You know, this project I'm working on& it really goes beyond what I told you
on the phone." She hadn't eaten much of her omelet. She seemed more inclined
to talk than lunch. "We're  actually, it's mostly me. I'm trying to put film
score composers back in their proper place in music. Many of them were as
talented as anyone writing music today& more so, I think. But their so-called
limitations, working in a popular medium, for mass audiences& " She shook her
head slowly. "Music people are snobs. Not musicians  necessarily  but
critics. I love movie scores. They don't seem to think  the critics and some
of the academics, I mean  they don't seem to understand that music for
movies, and not just musicals, shares some of the problems of scoring operas.
I mean, it's such an inspired idea, full scoring for a dramatic performance."
She grinned. "I'll ride that particular railroad any time you let me."
Michael nodded. "I love movie scores, too," he said.
"Of course you do. Why would Waltiri let you handle his estate if you didn't?
You're probably a better choice than most of the people in my department." She
held up her hands, exasperated at herself. "Look at this. I'm wasting food
again. All talking and no eating."
"All singing, all dancing," Michael said with a smile.
She stared at him intently. "You have a very odd smile. Like you know
something. Do you mind if I ask how old you are?"
He glanced down at the table. "That depends."
"I'm sorry. I'm intruding."
"No, not that," he said. "It's actually complicated& "
"Your age is complicated?"
"I'm twenty-two," he said.
"You look younger than that, and older too."
A silence hung over the table for several seconds.
"Have you gone to school?" Kristine asked.
"Not college, no."
file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-...0Power%2002%20-%20The%20Serpent%
20Mage.html (17 of 208) [5/21/03 12:44:31 AM]
Bear, Greg - Songs of Earth and Power Vol. 2 - The Serpent Mage
She laughed and reached across the table to tap his hand with her finger.
"You're perfect," she said.
"Everyone says Waltiri was an inconoclast. You're living proof."
"You've talked to people who knew him?"
"Yes. It's part of the project. I know a composer named Edgar Moffat. He
orchestrated Waltiri's movie scores and acted as his assistant in the fifties.
He's working in Burbank now on the score for a David Lean film. You'll have to
meet him. I've interviewed him several times in the last few months. He was
the one who told me about the Waltiri estate. He didn't know your name, but he
had heard rumors."
"Did he say anything about David Clarkham?" Michael asked.
"That was all before his time, I think. He's only fifty-three."
"Why are you studying music?"
"I'm a composer," she said. "I've been writing music since I was a teenager.
And you?"
Michael smiled. "I'm a poet," he said. "I've been writing poetry since& for a
long time."
Kristine's expression was faintly dubious. "Have you ever had anything
published?"
He shook his head. "In fact, I haven't even been writing much lately. Lots of
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things to think about, lots of work to do."
"Poetry and music," she mused. "They're not supposed to be that far apart. Do
you think they are?"
How could he answer that without making her think he was either pretentious or
crazy? What he had learned in the Realm  that all arts were intimately
related, that underlying each form was a foundation that could be directed and
shaped to yield a Song of Power  was not something a student of music at
UCLA was likely to understand. "They're very close," he said.
"I've never been word-oriented," Kristine said. "It was a struggle just to get
through English classes and learn how to write a clear sentence."
"And I don't know much about music," Michael said. "Two sides of a coin."
That, he thought, might be a bit presumptuous.
Kristine watched him intently. "I think the music department has a place for
Waltiri's papers," she said. "If the estate agrees, we could preserve them and
help you get them organized. Maybe that would speed up finding the
manuscript."
Such a move could also leave him without a job, or feather-bedding on the
estate payroll after he was no longer needed. "I'll consider it," he said. Was
that what Waltiri would have wanted?
Kristine pushed her plate away decisively and attracted the waitress's
attention with a raised hand, then asked for the check.
"My treat," she said. Michael did not protest. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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