'Yes. I am trying to recover some documents which were stolen from the Naturalist Society.'
“You have come to the wrong place. We keep no such articles in stock.”
“I thought not,” said Glawen. “However, one of your customers may be able to help me. His name is Melvish Keebles, but I do not have his current address, which is why I have come to you.'
Miss Shoup's mouth hitched in a thin smile. “We cannot issue such information without explicit instructions from the customer.”
“That is ordinary business practice,” said Glawen. “I had hoped that in these special circumstances you might be flexible. I assure you, incidentally, that I mean Melvish Keebles no harm; I only want to ask regarding the disposition of some documents which are of importance to the Conservancy.”
Miss Shoup leaned back in her chair. “I am totally flexible. I am Shoup and Company incarnate. My policy is company policy. I can change it ten times a day if I choose. I make a virtue of caprice. As for Keebles, whether or not you intended his disadvantage, you would say the same things; hence, your words carry no weight.”
'Yes; I fear that is true,” Glawen admitted. 'You have put the matter logically.'
“I know something of Keebles. He is a scapegrace. Many folk indeed would like to find him, including five ex-wives, none of whom he troubled to divorce or notify of the others. The entire membership of the Shoto Society would be pleased to lay hands on him. Of all my customers, Keebles would protest the loudest if I gave out his address.'
Glawen began to wonder whether Miss Shoup might not, very quietly, be enjoying his frustration. He said somberly: 'If facts would influence you — “
Miss Shoup leaned forward and clasped her hands in front of her. “I care nothing for facts.'
Glawen pretended an ingenuous interest, while despising himself for the dissimulation: “If so, by what means are you influenced?'
“There are no certain methods. You might appeal to my altruism. I would laugh at you. Flattery? Try all you like; I will listen with interest. Omens and portents? I fear nothing. Threats? One word and I would order my clerks to beat you well. They would do so, and paint you in a variety of indelible colors. A bribe? I already have more money than I could spend in a thousand years. What else is there?'
“Ordinary human decency.”
“But I am extraordinary, or hadn't you noticed? It is not by my choice that I am human. As for 'decency,' the word was defined without my participation; I am not bound by it.”
Glawen reflected a moment. “I've been told that yesterday someone else asked you for Keebles' address. Did you give him the information?'
Miss Shoup became very still. Her fingers stiffened. Her neck muscles suddenly corded, and she spoke. 'Yes. So I did.'
Glawen stared at her. “What name did he use?”
Miss Shoup clenched her fingers into a small bony fist. “It was a false name. I checked his hotel. They knew nothing of him. He made a fool of me. It will never happen again.'
'You don't know where to find him?'
'No.' Miss Shoup's voice was calm and cold. 'He sat where you are sitting and told me he was from off-world, that his father wanted to establish an artists’ supply house, and had sent him to Earth to study Shoup and Company's operations. He said that he had expected a dreary time of it, until he had met me; and now he saw that he had been wrong. He said that intelligence was the most fascinating trait a woman could have, and that we must have dinner together. I said, certainly, that would be delightful, and since he did not know the city, he should come to my house. This seemed to suit him very well. As he was leaving he said that his father wanted a certain Melvish Keebles to be his agent but did not know how to find him, and had I any suggestions. I said that by chance Keebles was one of my customers and that I could solve his problem on the spot, and I did so. He thanked me and went off. I went home and arranged a quiet dinner, with fine wine and good food. We would dine overlooking the lake, with candles on the table. I dressed in a black velvet gown I had never worn before and I made some special changes, then sat down to wait. I waited a long time, and in the end I lit the candles, started the music, drank the wine and dined alone.”
“That was an unpleasant experience.'
“Only at first. Halfway through the second bottle of wine I was able to be amused. Today I am back in my own world, though I have developed a loathing for handsome young men which extends to you. I see you clearly. As a class you, are a crass and brutal pack of animals, stinking of rut, proud in the majesty of your genital organs. Some people have an insane aversion to spiders, others to snakes; I detest young men.”
Glawen rose to his feet. “Miss Shoup, I have a hundred things to say to you, but you would like none of them, so I will bid you good day.'
Miss Shoup made no response.
Glawen departed the chamber. He rode the lift down to the showroom on the ground floor, and went to the table with the display of glass-melt guns. He was approached almost at once by D. Mulsh, who asked: “How went your interview?'
“Well enough,” said Glawen. “Miss Shoup is a remarkable woman.”
“So she is. I see that you are still interested in the glass-melt guns. Can I sell you a kit today?”
'Yes,' said Glawen. “They seem to be very useful items.”
'You will enjoy it,” said Mulsh heartily. “It is amazingly versatile.”
“This particular kit I will present to a friend, and I'll have you ship it to him from here.”
'No problem whatever, though I must charge you shipping costs.”
“Quite all right.”
Mulsh took the parcel to the shipping counter. 'You may give the girl particulars.' He took Glawen’s money and went off to the Cashier. Glawen told the girl: “Label the parcel to Melvish Keebles. The address is in your files.”
The girl punched buttons; the label machine ejected a label, which the girl affixed to the parcel. Glawen said: “On second thought I will carry the parcel with me.”
“Just as you like, sir.”
Glawen left the premises of Shoup and Company. Once out on the sidewalk he examined the label. It read:
Melvish Keebles
Argonaut Art Supplies
Crippet Alley, Tanjaree, Nion
Pharisse VI ARGO NAVIS 14-AR-366
Glawen returned to his hotel at the Division City airport. From his room he called Fair Winds, but there still had been no word from Wayness.
“I can't imagine where she has taken herself!” Pirie Tamm fretted. “No news may be good news, but it also can be very bad news.'
“I agree,” said Glawen. 'What's worse, I can't take the time to go look for her; circumstances simply don’t allow it. I'm going off-world at once.'
'As for me, there is nothing I can do but wait,' gloomed Pirie Tamm.
“Somebody has to stay at home,” said Glawen. “When Wayness calls, tell her that I’ve gone off-world, up another rung of the ladder, and that I will be back as soon as possible.'
At Tammeola Spaceport near Division City, the ticket agency's integrator sorted through routes, schedules, layovers and connections and computed for Glawen the most expeditious passage to the world Nion. The readout was valid only for a single hour's time-slot, after which circumstances might or might not change. There were also provisos in regard to transit between junction points. If the scheduled service were late, altered or canceled, then the carefully computed passage must be modified. In short, the element of luck still controlled circumstances. Glawen’s adversary had a day’s head start — which might mean much or nothing, and Glawen refused to speculate in regard to possibilities.
Glawen boarded the
