his hand; Jubal tendered him the letter.
Nai the Hever read, looked up slowly. “It is signed by Vaidro. The Iron Ghost. Why did you not tell me so to begin with? No matter.” He sighed. “I see that I must do something for you, regardless of complaints elsewhere. Do you realize that a dozen times a day I am asked to provide someone a fine career? Well then, I will place you—suitably.”
“At what salary, and with what prospects?”
“Sufficient salary; and you must make your own prospects. I can only give you a start. Are there any further conditions? Then let us discuss Ramus Ymph.”
“With pleasure. You wish to learn where he went. May I ask why?”
Nai the Hever straightened in his seat. He spoke crisply. “I have agreed to offer you employment, necessarily in one of the departments under my supervision. As a private citizen I tolerated your rather offensive latitude of manner. I am now your superior officer, and you must display conventional respect.
Henceforth you will obey my instructions, curb your tongue and try to learn the rudiments of civilized behavior. Now, without further circumlocution, tell me what you know.”
“After I examined the site where the ship landed,” said Jubal, “I went to investigate the forest, where, as I informed you, I found evidence of a camp, with a filled-over garbage pit. Let us refer to this fact as Idea One.
“When Ramus Ymph attempted my death he was dressed as a Thariot nobleman. I asked myself, had he worn these garments during his trip into space, or had the perrupters brought them along with the ercycle?
If the latter, where were his off-world clothes? This was Idea Two.
“Combining the two concepts, I dug up the garbage pit and found a parcel of clothes, of unusual style, and I carried them back with me into Thaery.”
Nai the Hever made a slight sibilant sound, which, so Jubal would learn, constituted his only signal of approval. “Where are these garments now?”
“I have them secreted nearby.”
Nai the Hever spoke toward a mesh. “Send in Eyvant. Your classification is Junior Assistant Inspector in Department Three of the Sanitary and Hygiene Office. Eyvant Dasduke will be your superior. He will instruct you in your duties. Conceivably you will make a successful career; if so you will have Eyvant to thank.”
Long after, when recalling those words, Jubal would smile wearily at the recollection.
Into the office came the tall young man who only the evening before had summoned Jubal to the office of Nai the Hever.
“Jubal Droad has accepted a post with Department Three,” said Nai the Hever. “You will instruct him in his duties. Now, however, I wish you to accompany him to a place nearby, where he will place a parcel into your custody. Bring this parcel here immediately.”
Eyvant wordlessly walked from the room. Jubal hesitated.
Nai the Hever had turned away and was inspecting a pamphlet.
Jubal followed Eyvant Dasduke.
Chapter 6
The Wysrod hacks were famous across Thaery. The gaunt silhouettes, the tall coffin-like compartments on disproportionately short and squat undercarriages, were ubiquitous: lurching and swaying around corners, swarming the boulevards like grotesque insects, flitting through the night unseen except for dangerously dim side-lamps. In such a hack Jubal and Eyvant Dasduke proceeded to the airport. They rode in silence, by Dasduke’s preference. Jubal could not help but envy his lofty assurance, as if all his opinions were naturally and inherently right; as if nothing conceivable could provoke him to an incorrect reaction.
At a convenient way-place in his musings, Eyvant Dasduke turned Jubal a side-glance. “What’s to be your grade?”
“I am Junior Assistant Inspector.”
Eyvant gave his head a sour and wondering shake. “We’re top-heavy now. I can’t imagine how you got aboard.” And he added thoughtfully, “We dance to nervous music around D3.”
Jubal ventured a polite question: “What are to be
Nai the Hever read, looked up slowly. “It is signed by Vaidro. The Iron Ghost. Why did you not tell me so to begin with? No matter.” He sighed. “I see that I must do something for you, regardless of complaints elsewhere. Do you realize that a dozen times a day I am asked to provide someone a fine career? Well then, I will place you—suitably.”
“At what salary, and with what prospects?”
“Sufficient salary; and you must make your own prospects. I can only give you a start. Are there any further conditions? Then let us discuss Ramus Ymph.”
“With pleasure. You wish to learn where he went. May I ask why?”
Nai the Hever straightened in his seat. He spoke crisply. “I have agreed to offer you employment, necessarily in one of the departments under my supervision. As a private citizen I tolerated your rather offensive latitude of manner. I am now your superior officer, and you must display conventional respect.
Henceforth you will obey my instructions, curb your tongue and try to learn the rudiments of civilized behavior. Now, without further circumlocution, tell me what you know.”
“After I examined the site where the ship landed,” said Jubal, “I went to investigate the forest, where, as I informed you, I found evidence of a camp, with a filled-over garbage pit. Let us refer to this fact as Idea One.
“When Ramus Ymph attempted my death he was dressed as a Thariot nobleman. I asked myself, had he worn these garments during his trip into space, or had the perrupters brought them along with the ercycle?
If the latter, where were his off-world clothes? This was Idea Two.
“Combining the two concepts, I dug up the garbage pit and found a parcel of clothes, of unusual style, and I carried them back with me into Thaery.”
Nai the Hever made a slight sibilant sound, which, so Jubal would learn, constituted his only signal of approval. “Where are these garments now?”
“I have them secreted nearby.”
Nai the Hever spoke toward a mesh. “Send in Eyvant. Your classification is Junior Assistant Inspector in Department Three of the Sanitary and Hygiene Office. Eyvant Dasduke will be your superior. He will instruct you in your duties. Conceivably you will make a successful career; if so you will have Eyvant to thank.”
Long after, when recalling those words, Jubal would smile wearily at the recollection.
Into the office came the tall young man who only the evening before had summoned Jubal to the office of Nai the Hever.
“Jubal Droad has accepted a post with Department Three,” said Nai the Hever. “You will instruct him in his duties. Now, however, I wish you to accompany him to a place nearby, where he will place a parcel into your custody. Bring this parcel here immediately.”
Eyvant wordlessly walked from the room. Jubal hesitated.
Nai the Hever had turned away and was inspecting a pamphlet.
Jubal followed Eyvant Dasduke.
Chapter 6
The Wysrod hacks were famous across Thaery. The gaunt silhouettes, the tall coffin-like compartments on disproportionately short and squat undercarriages, were ubiquitous: lurching and swaying around corners, swarming the boulevards like grotesque insects, flitting through the night unseen except for dangerously dim side-lamps. In such a hack Jubal and Eyvant Dasduke proceeded to the airport. They rode in silence, by Dasduke’s preference. Jubal could not help but envy his lofty assurance, as if all his opinions were naturally and inherently right; as if nothing conceivable could provoke him to an incorrect reaction.
At a convenient way-place in his musings, Eyvant Dasduke turned Jubal a side-glance. “What’s to be your grade?”
“I am Junior Assistant Inspector.”
Eyvant gave his head a sour and wondering shake. “We’re top-heavy now. I can’t imagine how you got aboard.” And he added thoughtfully, “We dance to nervous music around D3.”
Jubal ventured a polite question: “What are to be
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