considerable thought to what is needed. Here is my preliminary outline of our requirements, to which I expect you gentlemen will kindly accede with a minimum of fuss about costs.
“First off, we need a reliable victualler. This person must have good contacts in the Borough of Hakelight, the Borough immediately Uptown of Vayavirunga, where we will obtain our supplies. I have found the perfect candidate for this position. He should be awaiting us out in the reception area. May I introduce him now? Excellent!”
When Balsam Troutwine walked confidently into the room, Merritt dropped her notebook and pen. Bending over to retrieve the items, she felt her face mottling up. Straightening, she found the bluff liquor distributor regarding her with a distinct leer. Tarry scents of a vanished rope locker infused Merritt’s nostrils. She heard nothing of Troutwine’s presentation, but it must have been successful because he left smiling.
“My next concern involves porters. We need some sturdy, reliable fellows to bear our supplies into the interior of Vayavirunga, where any kind of wheeled vehicles, featuring impellers or otherwise, would be impractical—at least so far as we can reasonably conjecture. After surveying local delivery firms, I settled on a bike-messenger outfit. They won’t be able to employ their bikes, naturally, but the messengers are all in superb physical shape, and quite used to safeguarding whatever is entrusted to them. I have the firm’s vice-president ready outside.”
Dan Peart presented no embarrassing memories for Merritt to contend with. But his presence here nonetheless contributed to her growing sense of unreality. She had never mentioned these two mento Arturo Scoria, so no intentional actions on his part could have brought them to this room. Merritt experienced a momentary sense of some unknowable force molding her life into a strange destiny, before Peart’s clipped speech dragged her focus back to the room.
“Strong backs, strong legs, plenty of balls. That’s what you’re getting when you hire our boys. I’ll be there myself to inspire them.”
The Board seemed impressed. Peart departed. Scoria continued.
“Entrance to Vayavirunga, as I will elaborate in a written presentation later, is going to be tricky. My feeling is we’ll do best to approach by water. Therefore, I’ve hired a boat that will meet us in Hakelight by setting out some time ahead of the rest of the expeditionary force, which will motor more swiftly down Broadway.”
By this point, Merritt did not even flinch when Art nominated Captain Canebrake of the Samuel Smallhorne as his choice. She merely felt eerily prophetic.
“There are a few other trivial details to attend to, gentlemen, but there you have the major features of this assault on the Jungle Blocks. What do you say?”
President Ogallala smiled broadly, his nut-brown face creasing into well-worn laugh lines. He seemed disproportionately elated, and Merritt immediately suspected some monkeywrench in Arturo’s plans. But this once, Scoria bulked overconfident and failed to see the blow approaching.
“You have lived up to your reputation for boldness and perspicacity and far-sightedness, Professor Scoria. But you have forgotten one crucial failsafe measure. A backup for the most vital part of the mission.”
“And that would be?”
“Yourself.”
President Ogallala got up and opened the Boardroom door. “Come in, please, Professor.”
To his credit, Durian Vinnagar exhibited no expression of vindictive triumph or gleeful one-upmanship. Rather, he maintained his usual dour, sober and phlegmatic mien, allowing President Ogallala to state Vinnagar’s case by proxy.
“As you are well aware, Professor Scoria, Professor Vinnagar represents a different school of polypolisology than the one you adhere to. His unique insights and perceptions will counterbalance yours, and ensure that no potential findings of this mission are overlooked. Moreover, should
“First off, we need a reliable victualler. This person must have good contacts in the Borough of Hakelight, the Borough immediately Uptown of Vayavirunga, where we will obtain our supplies. I have found the perfect candidate for this position. He should be awaiting us out in the reception area. May I introduce him now? Excellent!”
When Balsam Troutwine walked confidently into the room, Merritt dropped her notebook and pen. Bending over to retrieve the items, she felt her face mottling up. Straightening, she found the bluff liquor distributor regarding her with a distinct leer. Tarry scents of a vanished rope locker infused Merritt’s nostrils. She heard nothing of Troutwine’s presentation, but it must have been successful because he left smiling.
“My next concern involves porters. We need some sturdy, reliable fellows to bear our supplies into the interior of Vayavirunga, where any kind of wheeled vehicles, featuring impellers or otherwise, would be impractical—at least so far as we can reasonably conjecture. After surveying local delivery firms, I settled on a bike-messenger outfit. They won’t be able to employ their bikes, naturally, but the messengers are all in superb physical shape, and quite used to safeguarding whatever is entrusted to them. I have the firm’s vice-president ready outside.”
Dan Peart presented no embarrassing memories for Merritt to contend with. But his presence here nonetheless contributed to her growing sense of unreality. She had never mentioned these two mento Arturo Scoria, so no intentional actions on his part could have brought them to this room. Merritt experienced a momentary sense of some unknowable force molding her life into a strange destiny, before Peart’s clipped speech dragged her focus back to the room.
“Strong backs, strong legs, plenty of balls. That’s what you’re getting when you hire our boys. I’ll be there myself to inspire them.”
The Board seemed impressed. Peart departed. Scoria continued.
“Entrance to Vayavirunga, as I will elaborate in a written presentation later, is going to be tricky. My feeling is we’ll do best to approach by water. Therefore, I’ve hired a boat that will meet us in Hakelight by setting out some time ahead of the rest of the expeditionary force, which will motor more swiftly down Broadway.”
By this point, Merritt did not even flinch when Art nominated Captain Canebrake of the Samuel Smallhorne as his choice. She merely felt eerily prophetic.
“There are a few other trivial details to attend to, gentlemen, but there you have the major features of this assault on the Jungle Blocks. What do you say?”
President Ogallala smiled broadly, his nut-brown face creasing into well-worn laugh lines. He seemed disproportionately elated, and Merritt immediately suspected some monkeywrench in Arturo’s plans. But this once, Scoria bulked overconfident and failed to see the blow approaching.
“You have lived up to your reputation for boldness and perspicacity and far-sightedness, Professor Scoria. But you have forgotten one crucial failsafe measure. A backup for the most vital part of the mission.”
“And that would be?”
“Yourself.”
President Ogallala got up and opened the Boardroom door. “Come in, please, Professor.”
To his credit, Durian Vinnagar exhibited no expression of vindictive triumph or gleeful one-upmanship. Rather, he maintained his usual dour, sober and phlegmatic mien, allowing President Ogallala to state Vinnagar’s case by proxy.
“As you are well aware, Professor Scoria, Professor Vinnagar represents a different school of polypolisology than the one you adhere to. His unique insights and perceptions will counterbalance yours, and ensure that no potential findings of this mission are overlooked. Moreover, should
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