Lefaun bowed with exaggerated deference” "I will call for you at your hotel early this evening. Shall we say eight o'clock?"
That is late."
"Not at Kiev. The town is barely astir. Well then, shall we say seven?"
"Very well. I would like to be back at nine.”
Lefaun made an ambiguous sound, and looked around the room. “I must attend to my regular affairs. When you are done with these files, please notify someone in the outer chamber, and he or she will call the porter. Until seven, then.”
Lefaun Zadoury departed the room on long strides, black gown fluttering behind him. Wayness turned and looked at the three cases. Biography, Genealogy, a projected new Society headquarters. They were elements of a single parcel; so Lefaun Zadoury had informed her and the code printed on each case was the same.
Wayness pondered a moment, then went to the door and looked into the outer chamber. It was now half-empty, and many of those who remained were preparing to leave.
Wayness closed the door. She returned to the table and copied the code which marked each of the three cases.
From far and wide across the city came the sound of a hundred great bells, tolling the hour of noon. Wayness leaned against the table and waited: five minutes, ten minutes. Once again she went to the door and looked out into the workroom, where everyone except a few preoccupied curators had gone off to lunch. Wayness went to a nearby alcove and seated herself in front of the information screen. She activated ‘Search' and 'Naturalist Society'. The screen yielded information regarding two parcels: semantic and linguistic references purchased from Gohoon Galleries and a second parcel comprising the three cases identified by the code she had only just copied. The indicated donor was: ‘Aeolus Benefices’, situated in the city Croy. The donation had been made fifteen years before.
Wayness copied the address, and ended the 'Search' program. She sat a moment thinking. Was the operation she had just completed beyond the imagination of Lefaun Zadoury? She thought not.
Wayness turned away from the alcove. “I do not want to become a cynic,” she told herself, “but until I find a more useful philosophy I see that I must abide by the rules of the jungle." Thinking of Lefaun Zadoury, she could not help but grin. "I have also saved twenty sols, which is a good morning’s work.”
Wayness approached one of the curators still at work and asked that the porter be notified as to the three cases in the side room. She was told somewhat ungraciously: “Notify him yourself; can't you see that I am busy?"
“Notify him how?”
“Push the red button beside the door the porter may feel inclined to respond. Or, on the other hand, he may not but that is his affair.”
“Thank you." Wayness left, the workroom, pressing the red button beside the door as she passed. In the loggia, she discarded the black gown, which lifted her spirits even further.
With nothing better to do, Wayness set out on foot: down the hill to the boulevard beside the Dnieper. At a wayside cart painted cheerfully red, blue and green, she bought a hot meat pie and a paper cornucopia filled with fried potato strings. Sitting on a bench she ate her lunch and watched the Dnieper flow by. What to do about Lefaun Zadoury and his no doubt unwholesome plans for the evening? She could not make up her mind; in spite of everything, he was amusing company.
Wayness finished her lunch and sauntered back along the prospect to the old Prlnce Kolsky Square and the Mazeppa Hotel. She made inquiries at the travel desk and learned that there would be no good connections for Croy until morning. “In that case," thought Wayness, “I will dine at Lena's Bistro after all, if only to embarrass Lefaun Zadoury.”
Wayness went up to her room with the intention of telephoning her uncle Pirie Tamm, but she hesitated. There were arguments which could be made in both directions. Pirie Tamm was a great one for issuing warnings and citing dangers.
Wayness caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, and decided that her hair had become over-long. She thought of Giljin Leepe and her eccentric thatch, but no, in fact, definitely not; a style so extreme would only make her feel self-conscious.
Wayness went down to the hair-dresser's shop on the ground floor, where her dark curling locks were trimmed so to hang just to the turn of her jaw.
Wayness returned to her room full of decision and immediately put through a call to Fair Winds.”
Pirie Tamm's first questions were indeed somewhat plaintive, and Wayness assured him as best she could. "I in a nice respectable hotel; the weather is fine and I am in good health.”
"You look somehow drawn and peaked.”
“That is because I have just had a haircut."
“Ah! That explains it I thought that you might have eaten something which upset your stomach."
“Not yet! But tonight I am having cabbage rolls at Lena's Bistro. It is said to be picturesque."
"Often that is merely a synonym for ‘dirty’.”
“You must not worry so! Everything’s going well. I have not been seduced or robbed or murdered or dragged screaming down into a cellar."
"So far so good, as you say, but any of these outrages might happen at a moment’s notice!"
“Somehow I suspect that seduction might take a bit longer. I am quite shy and I need a few minutes or even an hour before I warm up to people.''
“You must not joke about such things. They need only happen once, and then it is too late to take care."
“You are right, Uncle Pirie, of course. I should not be so flippant. Let me tell you know what I have learned. It is really quite important. Part of the Society Collection at Funusti Museum came by way of Gohoon Galleries.But another portion was donated fifteen years ago: by Aeolus Benefices, of Croy.”
“Aha, ahem. That is interesting indeed.“ Pirie Tamm's tone of voice had changed in a subtle manner. “Incidentally, one of your friends from Cadwal arrived yesterday, and is staying with me.”
Wayness' heart bounded. "Who? Glawen?"
“No,” said another voice and a second face moved into the screen. ‘It’s Julian."
"Oh my,” said Wayness in a husky half-whisper and then aloud: "What are you doing here?"
“Just what you are doing-looking for the Charter and the Grant. Pirie and I think that it would be prudent if we joined forces.”
Pirie Tamm said in a brassy voice: “Julian is quite right; we are all in this together the job is too big to be handled by a slip of a girl, which I have been saying since you began.”
“I have done quite well so far. Uncle Pirie, send Julian out of the room; I want to talk with you privately."
“My word!” drawled Julian. “Tact is not one of your strong points, is it?”
“I don’t know what else to say, in order to get you out of earshot.”
“Very well. If that is your wish, I will go.”
Pirie Tamm presently spoke. “Well then, Wayness, I certainly am surprised by your attitude!”
“I'm not only surprised at you, Uncle Pirie; I am horrified that you let me pour confidential information into Julian’s ear. He is a vehement LPFer; he intends to destroy the Conservancy and let the Yips run loose over all Cadwal! If Julian gets to the Charter and the Grant before I do, you can kiss the Conservancy goodbye!”
Pirie Tamm's voice was subdued. “He indicated you and he had a, well, romantic attachment, and that he had come to help you."
“He was lying.”
“What will you do now?"
“Tomorrow I will leave here for Croy. I can't make any other plans until I see how the land lays.”
“Wayness, I am sorry."
“No matter now. Just don’t tell anyone else anything, except Glawen Clattuc, in case he should arrive.”