Part 18 (2/2)

In the aisle next to them an elderly lady fusses about with her little wheeled suitcase. Malene seems not to notice her at all.

Iben speaks quickly now. Paul is walking a tightrope. Some years from now, he and Frederik will be competing for the same top post. They both already know it. Before then, Paul has to demonstrate that he is capable of building a stronger, better organization than Frederik. But in the current situation he feels that all research initiatives must be one-time events, like conferences and so on. That would mean that from now on, your function in the day-to-day work of the Center would be to support Anne-Lise.

Malene sits back heavily in her seat, staring into the middle distance.

I havent heard anybody say this and I dont know anything for sure, Iben says, but I cant help speculating.

Iben cannot recall having seen such bright suns.h.i.+ne in November. The delegates have gathered in the restaurant and on the outside terrace, enjoying the views over the sculpture park on the slope down to the sea. Iben recognizes quite a few people. Malene, who has managed research a.s.sistance practically singlehandedly for three years, is very well informed about who everyone is. Quite a few people comment on the e-mail threats or on articles in the DCIG online magazine. Others who havent met Iben since her return from Africa tell her how happy they were to learn that the hostage episode had ended in such a satisfactory way. Its great that you all got out alive, they say, even though it was four months ago.

New delegates are arriving all the time. Malene notices that one of the speakers from Bosnia looks lost and goes off to explain the conference setup to him. Paul is outside in the park with Morten Kjrum, executive director of the Inst.i.tute of Human Rights, and Birte Weiss, who used to be the minister for research and information technology. Anne-Lise stands by his side and appears to be trying to follow their conversation. This is the first time Paul has invited the Centers librarian to a conference.

At ten oclock, Morten Kjrum welcomes the delegates in the great hall downstairs and is followed by the first speaker, a young city mayor from Bosnia.

His body is as taut and powerful as a soldiers, even under the layer of fat that the southern European diet has deposited ever since the Dayton Peace Treaty. From where Iben and Malene are sitting, he looks almost boyish. Like the other delegates from the former Yugoslavia, but unlike their Danish hosts, he is wearing a dark suit, white s.h.i.+rt, and wide tie. The style of his dark hair reminds Iben of Russians in old spy films.

The talk deals with the Serb ethnic cleansing in his own locality, but despite this the presentation is unemotional and plainly instructive.

He reads out statistics from the overhead projector: 184 people were killed.

416 houses were burned to the ground.

1,783 persons were expelled.

73 persons were exposed to rape or torture or both.

He sticks to basics for the rest of his talk too. Most of those present know the facts already and no one takes any notes. At the end, many people wonder why in the world he was invited.

Someone asks a question: How come you survived?

He replies carefully, in a tone that remains factual and unengaged: Some of us had feared what would happen before it did. We had gathered together. They told us to hand over our weapons, but we bought new rifles from Serb soldiers. Then the top Serbs ordered that all the men should go to the school in the town. We ran off into the forest. They shot the men in the school later that day. We lived in the forest for several months.

The mayor is standing with his back half turned to the audience, looking up at the bright square with its tabulated numbers. He speaks in a monotone.

Then the Serbs surrounded the forest. They said they would let us live if we surrendered and kill us if we refused. I was in command of the whole group and I decided that we would not surrender. We learned later that every single one of us would have been killed if I had decided the other way. We ambushed twenty Serbs in the forest and took them prisoner. Then we did a deal. The prisoners would be freed if we were allowed to travel to a Bosnian enclave. We joined the Bosnian army there. I fought and quite soon was made a colonel. I led my men to free my town. Then they made me mayor.

No one can think of how to comment. For a few seconds the entire audience hesitates, and then a few questions are asked based on his talk.

During the coffee break, Iben goes off to look for Paul and finds him on the terrace, deep in conversation with the board chairman, Ole Henningsen. Ole is a heavily built man in his early sixties who sports a large white beard. Before he became interested in genocide research he wrote several historical works about the Soviet Union. He is one of the experts on contemporary history who regularly appears on television. Sometimes he does quiz shows too.

Iben notices Frederiks blond head above the crowd. He is walking away, possibly after having just left the other two. Paul is leaning forward to speak confidingly with Ole, who is known to be happy with the way Paul runs things. As Iben arrives, she hears the last words of what has clearly been a complaint about the way the Danish Inst.i.tute of Human Rights had tried to exclude the Center from being a co-organizer of this conference.

seems to me that they simply werent interested in using our expertise.

Pauls eyes are hidden behind his sungla.s.ses, and it is possible that he hasnt yet noticed that Iben has joined them.

Im considering taking the issue up with Morten.

Iben knows that the DCIG got in on the act only because Paul heard through some of his contacts that the DIHR was planning the conference. He managed to make sure the Center was involved at the last minute, just before the invitations and press releases were sent out.

One result of this collaboration is that the conference lasts for two days instead of one, which has made it more attractive for delegates from abroad. The DCIG contributed only 15,000 kroner, but added its unrivaled mailing list of European researchers interested in postwar Yugoslavia. Iben also spent several hours on the layout of the conference papers, and Paul wrote a full-page article about the conference for Information, describing the speakers backgrounds and speculating about the likely outcome.

Because the arrangements were made at the last moment, there had been no time to inform the board members including its deputy chairman, Frederik Thorsteinsson. And because Frederik didnt know of the plans, his Center for Democracy only heard about the conference when it was too late to join in the organizing of it. Paul, in his capacity as a member of the Center for Democracys board, might have mentioned it to Frederik, but it seems that he didnt. At least, Iben a.s.sumes he didnt.

When Iben joins Paul and Ole on the terrace, Ole immediately changes the subject and, in his pleasant voice, asks her how she is. All the board members have been very attentive to Iben ever since she returned from Kenya. Ole goes on to praise her recent articles.

Back in the hall the next speaker is an aging Bosnian journalist and intellectual.

Now we have to force ourselves to hope again. We want a better future for Bosnia. And we will achieve it, with the help of organizations such as those represented here today.

The speakers elaborate descriptions of his captivity in a shed outside Sarajevo make Iben feel oddly unfocused, as if her past is trying to return to her.

Omoro stands in the circle. He sings.

She pushes at the carapace of the dead beetle in the mud wall.

But she doesnt want to think about that. Not now.

They break for lunch and Iben sits next to Malene at one of the long communal tables in Louisianas restaurant. Their table is at a right angle to the huge windows and to the panoramic view of resunds glittering water. Beyond the straits, the outline of the Swedish coast is unusually clear.

All the delegates are busy networking in a mixture of languages, mostly English or the Scandinavian ones, and the noise level is terrific.

Malene scatters lots of salt over her food. Shes on a conference high.

Ive had a chat with Frederik and slipped a mention of Erik Prins into the conversation. As far as I could make out, Erik hasnt said anything bad about me to Frederik. Naturally I didnt ask him point-blank; he wouldnt have said anyway. It was just that I sensed he acted toward me the same way he always has.

Iben then spots Anne-Lise at one of the tables in the middle of the room and whispers to Malene: Look. Anne-Lise is talking to Lea.

Lea is a young and successful sociologist who works closely with the only female member of the DCIG board, Tatiana Blumenfeld. Tatiana is held in enormous respect by practically everyone. It would be very bad news if Lea pa.s.sed on an impression that Malene is a troublemaker in the office.

Ill talk to Lea during one of the breaks, Iben says rea.s.suringly. When it seems appropriate, Ill explain the real situation.

Thank you.

Iben finishes chewing a bite of spinach quiche before she speaks again.

Brigitte is around, you know. Ive seen her. If you have a word with her, Tatiana will hear the truth from two independent sources.

Brigitte is one of Tatianas Ph.D. students.

Iben leans back to look across the backs of people at their table. She observes that Lea seems amused by something Anne-Lise has said.

The first lecture after the lunch break is Serbian Intellectuals and the University of Belgrade After Democratization in the Balkans.

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