Barduys asked: “Into what kind of research is she involved?'
“I gather she is studying conservancies of the past, trying to learn why some were successful and others failed.”
“Interesting,” said Barduys. “It would seem a large project.”
“That is my feeling, “said Dame Cora.
Egon Tamm said: “Still, it can do no harm, and she will learn a great deal. I feel that everyone who is able to do so should make a pilgrimage to Old Earth during his lifetime.'
“Earth is the source of all true culture,” said Dame Cora.
Dame Clytie sat in a bleak monotone: “I fear that Old Earth is tired, decadent, and morally bankrupt.'
'I think you are overstating the case, “said Dame Cora. “I am acquainted with Pirie Tamm and he is neither decadent nor immoral, and if he is tired, it is because he is old.”
Julian tapped his goblet with a spoon to command attention. “I have arrived at the opinion that anything said about Old Earth is both true and false at the same time. I would like to visit Old Earth myself.'
Egon Tamm spoke to Barduys. “What is your opinion?'
'I seldom form opinions about anything, or anyone, or anywhere,' said Barduys. “If nothing else, I reduce the risk of issuing absurd pronouncements.'
Julian compressed his lips. “Still, experienced travelers know the difference between one place and another. That is known as ‘discrimination’.''
'Perhaps you are right. What do you say, Flitz?”
'You may pour me some more wine.'
'Sensible, though the message is latent.'
Dame Cora asked Barduys: “I gather, then, that you have visited Earth?”
“Yes indeed on many occasions.'
Dame Cora gave her head a wondering shake. “I am surprised that you and, ah, 'Flitz' found your way out to this remote little backwater at the end of the Wisp.'
“We are essentially tourists. Cadwal is not without a reputation for the quaint and unique.'
“And what sort of business do you generally pursue?'
'In the main, I am an old-fashioned entrepreneur, assisted to a large extent by Flitz. She is highly astute.”
Everyone turned to look at Flitz, who laughed, showing beautiful white teeth.
Dame Cora asked: “And 'Flitz', for a fact, is the only name you use?'
Flitz nodded. “That is all.”
Barduys explained: 'Flitz has discovered that a single name meets her needs and sees no reason to burden herself with a set of redundant and unnecessary syllables.'
“ 'Flitz' is an unusual name,” said Dame Cora. “I wonder as to its derivation.”
Julian asked Flitz: “Was your name originally 'Fittzenpoof' or something of the sort?”
Flitz slid a brief sidelong stare toward Julian. “No.” She returned to the contemplation of her goblet.
Dame Cora addressed Barduys. “Do you have some special area of business in which you are most interested?”
“To some extent,” said Barduys. “For a time I was occupied with the logic of public transport, and I became involved in the construction of submarine transit-tubes. Recently I have taken a fancy to what I call ‘theme' inns and hostelries.”
“We have several of these here and there around Deucas,” said Egon Tamm. “We call them 'wilderness lodges’.''
“If time permits I will visit some of these,' said Barduys.
“I have already examined the Araminta Hotel. Sad to say, it lacks interest, and is even a bit archaic.”
“Like everything else at Araminta Station,” sniffed Dame Clytie.
Glawen said: “The hotel, for a fact, is something of an outrage. It was put together in bits and pieces, an annex at a time. Eventually, we'll build another, but I expect that the new Orpheum will come first, if only because Floreste collected a good part of the financing.”
Egon Tamm said to Glawen: 'Perhaps now is as good a time as any to read Floreste's letter.”
“Certainly, if anyone is interested.”
“I am interested,” said Dame Clytie.
“I also.” said Julian.
'Just as you like.” Glawen brought out the letter. “Some of the material I will omit, for one reason or another, but I think you will find the balance interesting.”
Dame Clytie instantly bristled. “Read the letter in its entirety if you please. I see no reason for truncations. We all either public officials or persons of the highest integrity.”
Julian said gently: “Dear Aunt Clytie, I hope it is not a case of either one or the other.”
Glawen said: “I will read as much of the letter as possible. “He opened the envelope, removed the letter, and began to read, omitting the sections dealing with Shattorak and all mention of Chilke. Julian listened with a lofty half-smile; Dame Clytie made occasional clicking sounds between her teeth. Barduys listened with polite interest, while Flitz stared off across the lagoon. Warden Fergus and Dame Larica gave occasional small exclamations of shock.
Glawen finished the letter. He folded it and replaced it in his pocket. Warden Furgus turned to Dame Clytie'. And these abominable folk are your allies? You and the other Peefers are fools!”
'LPFers, if you don’t mind.' murmured Julian.
Dame Clytie said heavily: 'I am seldom mistaken in my appraisals of the human condition! Floreste evidently recorded events incorrectly, or wrote to the order of Bureau B. The letter may well be a bare-faced forgery.”
Egon Tamm said: “Dame Clytie, you should not utter such charges without substantiation. In effect, you are slandering Captain Clattuc.”
“Hmf. Forgery to the side, the fact remains that the statements in this letter fail to accord with my view of the case.”
Glawen asked innocently: 'Are you acquainted with either Titus Zigonie or his wife Simonetta — born, I am sorry to say, a Clattuc?'
“I know neither of them personally. Their gallant conduct provides me all the evidence I require. They are clearly fighting the strong and good fight for justice and democracy.”
Glawen turned to Egon Tamm, “Sir, if you will excuse me, I must now be returning to the Station. Thank you, Dame Cora, for lunch. Glawen bowed to the others in the parlor and departed.
CHAPTER II
Midnight was two hours gone. Araminta Station was quiet and dark, save for a few yellow lamps along Wansey Way along the beach road. Lorca and Sing were gone behind the western hills; across the black sky streamed the coruscating sparkling flow of Mircea’s Wisp.
In the shadows to the sled of the airport hangar there was furtive movement. A door opened; Glawen and Chilke slid out the modified Skyrie. The frame had been fitted with floats and a cabin; the swamp crawler had been strapped to the cargo deck; fairings had been attached wherever possible.
Glawen walked around the vehicle and saw nothing to alter his mood. Chilke said: “One last word, Glawen. I have in the office a bottle of very fine very expensive Damar Amber, which we will drink on your return.''
“That seems a good idea.'
“On second thought, perhaps we should break into it now, just to make sure of it, so to speak.”
“I prefer to think that I will be returning'' “That is a more positive approach,' said Chilke. ”You might as well get going. The way is long and the Skyrie is slow. I'll keep Benjamie hard at it in the warehouse taking inventory so
