Araminta Station (32 page)

Wayness shook her head. “He’d declare that I was too young and inexperienced for such a venture, and I wouldn’t be allowed to leave Riverview House.”

“Is it possible that he might be right?”

“I don’t think so. I believe that I am doing exactly the right thing . . . Anyway, that’s the situation and I hope that you feel better.”

“I don’t feel anything, which is better.”

“Goodnight, Glawen.”

The following morning Wayness called Glawen again. “Just to bring you up to date: Warden Ballinder and Dame Clytie quarreled this morning. As a result Dame Clytie; with Julian in tow, is returning early to Stroma.”

“Indeed! What of Julian’s investigation of Mad Mountain?”

“The subject never arose. It’s either been postponed or forgotten.”

Chapter IV, Part 6

In response to a question from Bodwyn Wook, Glawen stated: “I’m not at all comfortable with the Bold Lion assignment. I feel a spy and a sneak.”

“Why should you not?” snapped Bodwyn Wook. “That is your function. A Bureau B agent never fools himself with words. Forget the terminology; just do the work.”

“Meanwhile I must consort with the Bold Lions. They grow more tiresome by the hour.”

“Including Kirdy?”

“Kirdy is inconsistent. He can even be amusing, in a sarcastic way. But give him an extra mug of Bold Lion Reserve and he is as callow as Cloyd or Kiper. Sometimes worse!”

“Odd! Few Wooks are callow. Let me advise you: never underestimate Kirdy, or take him casually! At times he shows a Machiavellian clarity of vision. For example, like yourself, he felt awkward bringing me weekly reports of seditions and criminal conspiracies. He therefore recommended that I assign this work to you. Chicanery may be expected anywhere and at any time.”

Glawen smiled ruefully. “I will certainly keep what you say in mind.”

Bodwyn Wook leaned back in his chair. “Kirdy does not understand this, but the Bold Lions are in the nature of a camouflage. There is a certain person in whom I am interested. He seems to have a fairly close association with Titus Pompo, though he does not advertise the fact. I refer to Namour.”

Glawen made no comment. Bodwyn Wook continued: “Namour is deft and gracious: so much so that we suspect him without knowing exactly why. Give careful attention to Namour and every word he says, without being obvious. When do the Bold Lions meet next?”

“Milden afternoon they’re driving up to Sarmenter Cove for a clam roast. Namour will not be on hand. I also hope to avoid the event.”

“How so? It might be a jolly affair!”

Glawen shook his head. “Everyone will be drunk but me. There will be a lot of secret Bold Lion ritual: pounces, growls and roars, with penalties for making mistakes. New songs composed by Kiper and Arles will be introduced, which everyone must memorize and sing with gusto. Kiper and Jardine will vomit. Arles will be Arles. Kirdy will pontificate; Uther will vex him by laughing and sneering. There is little to attract me.”

“No girls?”

“What girls would go anywhere with the Bold Lions?”

“Still, you must be on hand. Be watchful and formulate theories.”

“As you say, sir.

“One final word. Today I spoke with the Conservator. He mentioned that you had been a recent visitor to Riverview House.”

“Yes. I’m afraid I talked too much.”

“Not according to Egon Tamm. He tells me that when you were asked for your opinions, you stated them clearly and vigorously but with perfect gentility. Your remarks, so he tells me, were exactly appropriate, and what he wanted to say himself. In short, you have gained his good opinion.” He waved his hand. “That it all for now.”

Glawen rose to his feet, bowed stiffly and departed the office.

On Milden afternoon, three wagons driven by Kirdy, Uther and Glawen conveyed all the Bold Lions save Jardine Laverty north along the beach road to Sarmenter Cove. Jardine would arrive shortly with a cask of wine, which he hoped to obtain by illicit means from the Laverty warehouse.

Jardine, however, was late. The others gathered fuel for a fire, then went off to dig in the sand for the clamlike molluscs indigenous to Sarmenter Beach.

The clams were dug; the fire was ready, and at last Jardine arrived, in a most disconsolate state of mind.

The story he had to tell was not a cheerful one. Instead of a cask of the fine Yermolino he had hoped to purvey, he had brought only a few jugs of ordinary white Tissop. “I walked into a trap,” said Jardine bitterly. “Old Volmer was lying in wait and caught me dead to rights. I’m sure that he was tipped off; there’s no other explanation! Anyway, I’ve had no end of trouble; I’m in hot water with the Housemaster, and no telling what they’ll do to me. When I finally got away, I picked up some Tissop at the Arbor, but it’s on our account and we’ll have to pay.”

“What a sordid situation!” said Shugart. “Did Volmer hint as to the source of his information?”

“Not Volmer! He’s a tight old goat.”

“It sounds suspiciously as if there’s an informer somewhere,” said Arles. His gaze rested a thoughtful moment on Glawen.

Uther Offaw said: “We’ll work something out tomorrow, but for now we’ve got clams on the fire and wine in the jug! Let’s rejoice as best we may.”

“Easy for you to say,” grumbled Jardine. “I don’t know what the charges will be against me. They’re not taking the matter lightly. I’m lucky not to be in the Carcery.”

Cloyd Diffin said: “It’s a wicked situation, and no two ways about it.”

Jardine gave a dour nod. “I’d like to lay hands on the sneak who shopped me. I’d make him sing some high notes, I assure you!”

Arles said in a pompous voice: “I don’t like to make accusations, but logic is logic and facts are facts. Need I point out that Glawen is a real bark-scratcher in Bureau B?”

“Nonsense,” said Kirdy. “I’m in Bureau B too. I keep business out of my social life, and no doubt Glawen does the same.”

“That’s just a pious hope,” said Arles. “If you recall, I advised against his membership in the first place, and now our troubles have started.”

Jardine said in a troubled voice: “Glawen wouldn’t nail me over a cask of wine! At least, I don’t think he would!”

“Ask him,” said Arles.

Jardine turned to Glawen. “Well: would you? More to the point: did you?”

Glawen said: “It’s beneath my dignity to answer you. Think what you like.”

“Come, now!” cried Arles. “That’s not good enough! We want an answer, and we want it straight and for the record! Because I know very well you tell old Bodwyn Wook everything that goes on.”

Glawen gave a stony shrug and turned away. Arles took his shoulder and whirled him around. “Answer, if you don’t mind! We want to know whether you are a spy or not!”

“I am an officer in Bureau B,” said Glawen. “What, if anything, I report to my superiors is official business, which I am not free to discuss.”

Arles gave Glawen’s shoulder a shake. “That is not what I asked you!”

Glawen pushed away Arles’ hand. “You are becoming very tiresome, Arles.”

Kirdy came forward. “Come, now! Let’s not quarrel and spoil the whole day!”

“Bah!” cried Jardine. “The day is already spoiled!”

“And I say Glawen is responsible,” cried Arles in a passion. “Answer me, Glawen! Do you inform on us or don’t you? Give us a straight answer! Or consider yourself expelled from the Bold Lions!”

“Expelled? Bah! I resign from your drunken group!”

“That’s good to hear, but it’s still not an answer.” Arles reached again to seize Glawen’s shoulder; Glawen thrust the arm away. Arles struck out with his other fist, buffeting Glawen glancingly on the neck. Glawen drove one fist into Arles’ belly and struck up at Arles’ heavy chin, hurting his own knuckles. Arles snorted in fury and lurched forward, windmilling blows. Glawen backed away. Kiper, squatting on the sand, cleverly thrust out his foot; Glawen tripped and fell. Arles rushed forward and kicked Glawen in the ribs, and tried to do so again, but Kirdy intervened and pushed him aside.

“Come, now!” said Kirdy sternly. “Let’s have fair play! Kiper, that was a rotten act.”

“Not if he’s a spy!”

“Quite right!” panted Arles. “This smirking little sneak deserves nothing better! Allow me just one more good kick, where it will do the most good!”

“Absolutely not,” said Kirdy. “Now, stand back, or you’ll be dealing with me as well. As far as the wine is concerned, Glawen obviously had nothing to do with it. No one knew what was up but Jardine and myself.”

“He probably heard you talking.”

Glawen picked himself up, conscious of a sharp pain in his side. He contemplated Arles, standing ten feet away and watching him with a grin. Glawen turned and limped away: up the beach to the Clattuc power wagon. He climbed into the seat and drove back to Araminta Station.

From Clattuc House he called Bodwyn Wook by telephone. “I am no longer a Bold Lion.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Jardine Laverty tried to steal a cask of wine and was caught in the act. Arles accused me of informing. We had some words, and I was expelled from the Bold Lions, which is easily worth a kick in the ribs.”

“Confound and blast,” said Bodwyn Wook. “There go my plans.”

Glawen thought it wise to hold his tongue. Bodwyn Wook made thoughtful hissing sounds through his teeth. “I take it you do not care to rejoin?”

“That is correct.”

Bodwyn Wook slapped his hand gently down on the desk. “You shall still go to Yipton, and in the company of the Bold Lions. Kirdy will invite you. It may work out just as well.”

“Whatever you say.”

Chapter IV, Part 7

Two ferries plied the route between Araminta Station and Yipton: the old
Spharagma
, now dedicated to the transport of cargo and a few Yip laborers; and the new
Faraz
: a catamaran with comfortable accommodations for a hundred and fifty passengers. At speeds of forty to sixty miles an hour the
Faraz
skated across the blue ocean, making the passage to Yipton in six to eight hours, laying over for the night and returning the next day, thus making three round trips each week.

A few days before the half-term holiday Jardine Laverty sheepishly sought out Glawen. “In the matter of that ridiculous wine cask, I stand embarrassed. I find that Volmer simply happened to be working when he should have been off duty. You were most unfairly blamed and so, herewith, I tender my apologies. Words, I realize, are insufficient, but at the moment I can offer nothing else.”

Glawen said stiffly: “I can’t pretend to have happy memories of the event.”

“Naturally not! It’s a pity that you felt compelled to resign from the Bold Lions.” Jardine hesitated, then went on somewhat lamely: “I suppose that you could be reinstated if you so chose though Arles might be a bit difficult.”

“No, thank you,” said Glawen. “My term as a Bold Lion is done. However, I’ll still be going to Yipton next week, and for company I may mingle with the group, unless there is any objection.”

“You’ll be most welcome, I’m sure!” Jardine thought a moment. “There’s a meeting tonight; I’ll explain about Volmer, and I’ll mention that you’ll be among the party.”

The half-term ended; the recess began. On Milden morning early the Bold Lions, Glawen and about eighty tourists arrived at the ferry terminal, changed sols for scrip at the currency control desk, then boarded the
Faraz
.

The Bold Lions numbered eight: Uther and Kiper Offaw, Jardine Laverty, Shugart Veder, Arles Clattuc, Cloyd Diffin, Kirdy Wook and a new member, Dauncy Diffin. All save Arles gave Glawen a courteous welcome, and explained how they had never believed the allegations against him. “The idea is foolish on the face of it,” said Uther Offaw.

Arles merely grunted. For the occasion he wore a fine new black cloak, with an embroidered silver cincture at the beltline. Casting a morose side glance toward Glawen, Arles said: “He’s still a Bureau B snoop, and, mark my words, he’s coming along to Yipton on some kind of funny business.”

Kirdy came forward, his big pink face screwed up in irritation. “Let’s all relax and have a good time!” Today Kirdy wore the costume of a backcountry Soum rancher: a light brown twill shirt, blue-and-white-striped knee-length trousers, with a broad-brimmed tan bush ranger’s hat.

“Just so long as he realizes he’s here on sufferance,” muttered Arles.

Glawen only laughed and turned away.

Upon boarding the
Faraz
, each of the passengers received a pamphlet entitled “Information for visitors to the Lutwen Islands.” As Glawen waited for departure, he went to stand by the rail and read the pamphlet:

The visitor to the Lutwen Islands - Yipton, as the place is familiarly known - will surely enjoy his visit and find a truly amazing diversity of entertainments, so long as he exercises common courtesy and strictly obeys Yip regulations.

REMEMBER
: Yipton is not just a picturesque suburb of Araminta Station; but more like an independent settlement on a far world. Yip society is unique in the Gaean Reach.

DO NOT
try to understand the Yip society or deal with it in ordinary terms; you will only make difficulties for yourself. Learn the following rules and abide by them.

BE WARNED!
The Yips lack reverence for what you might call “human rights.” The Yips live a harsh and practical existence, and often cannot spare the luxury of tedious legal exercises. It is easier to eliminate a problem than to solve it; the Yips are not averse to cutting the Gordian knot. Protect yourself by prudent behavior, keeping out of
PRINCIPAL SOURCES OF TROUBLE
.

NOTHING IS FREE
except the air you breathe. You will be charged when you use the hotel toilet. Should you ask directions, pay your informant five dinkets. The Yip is neither grasping nor avaricious; he is merely exact, practical and meticulous. Everything costs; when you avail yourself of an item, or a service, you must pay.