A Princess of The Linear Jungle

superior seated height allowed for eye-contact above the clutter. The administrator regarded Merritt for a time over steepled fingers, then spoke.
    “Miss Abraham, you are bright. Very bright. Why are you not enrolled in Swazeycape’s polypolisological graduate program, instead of toiling among the arrowheads and fertility talismans here, if I may employ that handy synecdoche?”
    Merritt’s face reddened, although she had no real reason for shame. “It’s money, Professor Chambless. Just money. I can’t afford the tuition. It took all my scraping and striving just to pay for my studies at Jermyn Rogers. That’s why I needed five years to finish. I was a waitress the whole time. And even then I had to take out several loans. I owe too much already to go further into debt. I never even applied here, though I’m sure my grades….”
    Merritt tailed off, wary of sounding boastful.
    “Our University offers no relevant grants or stipends?”
    “None that I qualified for. Believe me, I checked. And Swazeycapeis very expensive, as you well know.”
    “And so you took your position here at Nikolai Milyutin. Why is that?”
    “Well, I knew that as a University employee, I’d get to audit courses for free. That won’t lead to a degree, I know, but I’ll still learn a lot. When the semester starts next month, I intend to sit in on several sessions outside of working hours, including Professor Scoria’s of course.”
    “I note that your immediate answer to my last question did not involve any variant of the pious sentiment, ‘So that I could invest my whole heart and soul in the curatorial process, fashioning the most stimulating and enlightening exhibits possible for the curious and deserving public.’”
    Merritt realized she had made an impolitic gaffe. “But I do want to create wonderful exhibits, Professor, I really do.”
    “Miss Abraham, let us not dissemble. Your job here is merely a steppingstone to something greater. You have no real interest in making the NikThek your permanent career. You have hopes of achieving something greater with your life, ambitions to make a mark in your chosen field of study, and the talent to back up those dreams. You will stay with us just so long as it suits you, acquiring knowledge and contacts as a sponge soaks up spilled wine. Then you will depart, with nary a backward glance or thought for our fusty old museum. At least until some years have passed, whereupon you might experience some nostalgia for these early days of painful striving.”
    Flustered, Merritt pondered how to respond. Impulsively, she pinned Professor Chambless with a steely gaze and said boldly, “That is absolutely correct.”
    Chambless stood, and Merritt prepared to be informed of her dismissal.
    “Miss Abraham, you are precisely the kind of person I am happy tomentor. You may count on me for any assistance toward your noble goals. But please, I ask only that during our days together, of whatever duration, all your assignments be completed by deadline, and manifest all your considerable skills.”
    Merritt began to weep. Professor Chambless came around the desk and laid a companionable bony arm across her shoulders, and handed her a square of embroidered fabric. Merritt mentally catalogued the piece as a ceremonial menstrual cloth from the Borough of Gartonstolz. She blew her nose on it nonetheless.
    “Dry your eyes, Miss Abraham. The Throy Diaries beckon, and there are still the Squillacote scrimshaws to consider.”
    Merritt complied. Professor Chambless said, “Do you have any family back in Stagwitz, my dear?”
    “No, none. I was orphaned from birth.”
    “And have you made many new friends here in Wharton?”
    “Not a one.”
    “Well, I suggest that you include a little room for fun and relaxation in your program, Miss Abraham. All work and no play makes Vasuki spew poison, as we all can attest.”

3.
    OFF WORK

    AS A PRESTIGIOUS UNIVERSITY BOROUGH, WHOSE reputation had spread far Uptown and Downtown, Wharton drew newcomers from afar and boasted a decidedly heterogenous population, more so than many another segment of the Linear City, including Merritt’s stuffy home of Stagwitz. In her daily rounds—and this was an admittedly limited itinerary, generally including only her lonely, cloistered apartment, the NikThek, and either Marley’s corner grocery store (home to economical stuffed grape leaves and potent plonk atone bull the bottle) or a cheap greasyspoon such as the